
BookilSLtl. 



CfiEXRIGm DEPOSm 



LITTLE WOMEN 



BY 

MARIAN DE FOREST 




SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th St., New York 



BILLETED. 

A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 
6 females. One easy interior scene. A charming comedy, constructed 
with uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret Anglin's 
big success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular 

with all audiences. Price. 60 Cents, 

NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 6 fema!es. Cos- 
tumes, modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2% hours. 

Is it possible to tell the absolute truth— even for twenty-four hours? It is—^* 
at least Bob Bennett, the hero of "Nothing But the Truth," accomplished the 
feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and the trouble he got into— 
with his partners, his friends, and his fiancee — this i* the subject of William 
Collier's tremendous comedy hit, "Nothing But the Truth" can be whole-heartedly 
recommended as one of the most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that 
this country can boast. Price, 60 Cents. 

IN WALKED JIMMY. 

A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (although 
any number of males and females may be used as clerks, etc.) Two 
interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2^ hours. The thing into 
which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks 
had all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serious contemplation 
of suicide. 

Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious figure 
had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his everlasting 
humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the heart of the girl 
clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped that place as a permanent 
boarding house himself, and foiled the villain. 

Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human natute, just a dash of 
excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make "In Walked Jimmy" 
one of the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the religion of life, the 
religion of happiness and the religion of helpfulness, and he so permeates the 
atmosphere with his "religion" that everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, 
good cheer, and hearty laughter dominates the play. There is^not a dull moment 
in any of the four acts. We strongly recommend it. Price, 60 Cents. 

MARTHA BY-THE-DAY. 

An optimistic comedy in three acts, by Julie M. LIppmann, author of 
the "Martha" stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Cos- 
tumes modern. Plays 2J^ hours. 

It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint humor, old- 
fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play will recall 
and chuckle over tomorrow and the next day. 

Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage service, 
and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling incidents, infectious 
comedy and homely sentiment for the play, and the result is thoroughly delightful. 

Price, 60 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City 

New and Explicit Descriptive Catalog:ue Mailed Free on Request 



LITTLE WOMEN 

A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS 

BY 
MARIAN DE FOREST 

ll 

ADAPTED FROM THE STORY BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT 
BY ARRANGEMENT WITH JESSIE BONSTELLE 

Copyright, 1911, by Marian de Forest 
Copyright, 1931, by Samuel French 

Also Copyright in Great Britain and Dominion of 
Canada, 1921, by Samuel French 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



CAUTION.—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned 
that "LITTLE WOMEN," being fully protected under the 
copyright laws of the United States, Great Britain and 
Dominion of Canada, is subject to royalty, and anyone 
presenting the play without the consent of the owners or 
their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by 
law provided. Applications for the amateur acting rights 
must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th St., 
New York Applications for the professional actmg 
rights must be made to William A. Brady, The Playhouse. 
West 48th St., New York, 



New York: 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

38-30 West 38th Street 



London : 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 

Strand 






Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this 
book without a valid contract for production first having 
been obtained from the publisher, confers no right or license 
to professionals or amateurs to produce the play publicly or 
in private for gain or charity. 

In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading 
public only, and no performance of it may be given except 
by special arrangement with Samuel French, 28-30 West 
38th Street, New York. 

Section 28 — That any person who wilfully or for profit 
shall infringe any copyright secured by this act, or who shall 
knowmgly and wilfully aid or abet such infringement shall 
be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction 
thereof shall be punished by imprisonment for not exceeding 
one year, or by a fine of not less than one hundred nor more 
than one thousand dollars, or both, in the discretion of the 
court. 

Act of March 4, 1909. 



©CI.D 



58723 



CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY 

Mr. March 
• Mrs. March 
-Meg 

•Jo 
' Beth 
-Amy 
- Aunt March 

Mr. Laurence 
- Laurie 

Professor Bhaer 

John Brooke 

Hannah Mullett 



SYNOPSIS 

ACT I — Sitting room of the March home in Con- 
cord, Mass., December, 1863. 

"It was a comfortable old place, though the 
carpet was faded and the furniture very plain^ 
for a good picture or two hung on the walls,, 
books filled the recesses, chrysanthemums and 
Christmas roses blossomed in the windows, and 
a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervaded 
it" 

ACT II. — Scene I. — The same, three months later. 
Morning, March, 1864. 

(The curtain will be lowered for a few mo- 
ments to denote a lapse of time.) 

Scene II. — The same, six months later. Late 
afternoon, September, 1864. 

ACT III. — The same, two and one-half years later. 

Afternoon. 

ACT IV. — The apple orchard, Plumfield, eighteen 
months later. Afternoon, October, 1868. 



The play staged in New York by Jessie Bonstelle 
and Bertram Harrison. In London, England, by 
Jessie Bonstelle. 



S 



SEP26 7i 



LITTLE WOMEN 

Original cast as produced in New York City at 
The Playhouse, October, 1912, by William A. Brady, 

Mr. March Lynn Hammond 

Mrs. March Gertrude Berkeley 

Meg ., Alice Brady 

Jo Marie Pavey 

Beth Gladys Hulette 

Amy .Beverly West 

Aunt March Mrs. E. A. Eherle 

Mr. Laurence Carson Davenport 

Laurie , Howard Estabrook 

Professor Frederick Bhaer Carl Sauernmn 

John Brooke John Cromwell 

Hannah Mullett Lillian Dix 

Original cast for the London production, New- 
Theatre, November 10, 1919. 

Mr. March Alfred A. Harris 

Mrs. March , Henrietta Watson 

Meg Joyce Carey 

Jo Katharine Cornell 

Beth Hattie Hanson 

Amy , Eva Rowland 

Aunt March Kate Phillips 

Mr. Laurence Sydney Paxton 

Laurie Antony Holies 

Professor Antoine Baret. . . , Leslie Faber 

John Brooke Henry C. Hezvitt 

Hannah Mullett Ada Palmer 

Note. — For the English production the character 
of Professor Bhaer, which is German, was changed 
to that of Professor Antoine Baret, and the speeches 
were rewritten into French. 

5 



NOTE 

For the rehearsal in the first act, the text is taken almost 
verbatim from "Comic Tragedies by Jo and Meg," the book 
published by Little, Brown & Co., of Boston, Mass., U.S.A., 
of the plays written by Jo and Meg and acted by the Little 
Women. The names of the characters are from "Norma, 
or the Witch's Curse," and "The Captive of Castile, or the 
Moorish Maiden's Vow." 



Little Women 



ACT I 

Scene. — Sitting room in the March home. 

"It was a comfortable old place, though the 
carpet was faded and the furniture very plain, 
for a good picture or two hung on the walls; 
hooks filled the recesses, chrysanthemums and 
Christmas roses blossomed in the windows, and 
a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervaded 
itr 

Time. — Afternoon, December, 1863. 

Setting. — Set for Act I, also for Acts II and III, 
which are not changed, except for the back 
drops, which are changed for the season of the 
year. 

Large, square, old-fashioned sitting room, 
with deep wide window at centre back, filled 
with growing plants. The window is backed by 
drop, showing Laurence mansion across the 
garden. Scene stands for three acts, only the 
drop changed. 

The March room, with plain white ceiling — 

scene not over 16 feet in height, old-fashioned 

wall paper, with border and baseboard. Niche 

in the wall on right side of window at back. 

7 



8 LITTLE WOMEN 

A little cupboard underneath it where Meg gets 
Beth's picturebook. Both side walls oblique 
toward the back. Hall door in fiat left ist, 
showing little trellis and porch and crude wooden 
seat; window, left 2d. From left ^d, old-fash- 
ioned staircase runs back and up about six steps 
to a square landing, then three steps to platform 
off into an arched exit left 3. Old-fashioned 
sm^ll oval zvindow in flat on top of staircase. 
Coat closet under staircase and seat in the elbow 
of staircase. Mahogany newel posts, white 
spindles. Mahogany handrail, very solid. 

Right, 1st, door leading into Mr. March's 
study, in wing. Right 2d, old-fashioned fire- 
place and mantel, with brass andirons, logs, bel- 
lows, poker, hearth-brush, etc., everything for 
practical use. On mantel, brass candlesticks, 
clock, Parian figure of Venus. Right ^d, double 
doors to dining room. Backing ^et oblique so as 
to show suggestion of dining room. Lace-cur- 
tained windows in backing. 

Furniture, old mahogany and rosewood, 
covered with haircloth or faded tapestry or 
damask. Faded Brussels carpet of old-fash- 
ioned, flowered pattern. Rug in front of fire- 
place Large easy chair r. Footstool r. Round 
mahogany table with one centre leg c. Large 
upholstered chair r. of table. Small chair back 
of table. Old-fashioned Windsor chair with cre- 
tonne seat and back cushions tied on L. of table. 
Old-fashioned sofa with pillows placed in win- 
dow in Act 3^. Smaller chairs; work-baskets. 
Whatnot in corner; bust of Plato in niche at 
hack. Bust of Shakespeare on hanging book- 
shelves on wall at back. Bust of Mozart on 
piano, which is an old-fashioned cottage upright 
with candlesticks. This sets against right side 



LITTLE WOMEN 9 

of staircase, forming space for three-cornered 
whatnot. 
Note. — The study door right ist — solid mahogany 
{painted white china knobs on all doors) — opens 
up and off-stage. Double mahogany doors open 
off into dining room. Door tinder staircase to 
closet white like woodwork, with large black 
hinges. Door left 1st, mahogany. Open on 
stage and up — brass knocker on the outside. 

Lights.—^? rise LIGHTS AMBER. 

Note. — No change of lights was made during first 
act in New York. Frosted throughout entire 
act. 

At Rise. — Discovered the four March girls: Jo, 
lying on the hearth rug, boyish attitude; her 
hands behind her head. Meg, sewing, sitting R. 
of c. table on the side toward the fire; Amy, also 
at the table, but more in the foreground, be- 
side her sketching things, drawing-board on her 
lap, such as artists use, evidently copying the 
figure on the mantel-shelf, towards which she 
looks every few moments, making occasional 
erasures, shozving desire to get copy as near the 
original as possible. Beth, cuddled down on a 
low stool near the chimney corner, knitting on a 
long blue army stocking and rocking small 
home-made doll cradle. Evident from the va- 
cant easy-seat in front of the fire and the pair 
of slippers on the hearth-rug that some one is 
expected. 

Note. — Tempo of first act must be quick. Jo must 
set the pace. 

Medium Slow Curtain. 
Mvsic.— 'Auld Lang Syne.'' PP. 
Jo. (Rolls over on stomach with elbows on stage, 



10 LITTLE WOMEN 

chin in hands) Christmas won't be Christmas with- 
out any presents. 

Meg. (Sewing carpet rags. Looking down at her 
dress, which is faded and shabby) It*s so dread- 
ful to be poor ! 

Amy. (Drawing, looking injured) I don't think 
it*s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty 
things and others nothing at all. 

Beth. (Knitting, contentedly) We've got Father 
and Mother and each other. 

Jo. (Sadly) We haven't got Father and shan't 
have him for a long time. I think it was splendid 
of him to go off to the war as a chaplain when he 
was too old to be drafted and not strong enough 
for a soldier. Wish I could go as a drummer, or a 

nurse, or a viva — viva (Laughs) What's its 

name? 

Meg. You know why Mother proposed not hav- 
ing any presents this Christmas was because it's go- 
ing to be a hard winter for everyone ; and she thinks 
we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our 
men are suffering so in the army. 

Jo. Well, the little we should spend wouldn't do 
any good. We've each got a dollar. (Girls sigh) 
I agree not to expect anything from you or Marmee, 
but I do want to buy Undine and Sintram for my- 
self. I've wanted it so long. 

Beth. (Wistfully) I planned to spend mine on 
new music. 

Amy. (Decidedly, examining pencil) I shall get 
a nice box of drawing pencils. I really need them. 

Jo. (Sits up) Mother didn't say anything about 
our money, and she won't wish us to give up every- 
thing. Let's each buy what we want and have a 
little fun. I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it. 
(Examines the heels of her shoes) 

Meg. I know I do, teaching those tiresome chil- 



LITTLE WOMEN ii 

dren all day, when I'm longing to enjoy myself at 
home. 

Jo. You don't have half as hard a time as I. do 
with Aunt March. How would you like to be shut 
up for hours with a nervous, fussy old lady, who 
keeps calling "Josephine — Josephine!" (Imitating 
Aunt March. Girls laugh) — is never satisfied, and 
worries you till you're ready to fly out of the win- 
dow or cry ? 

Beth. I know it's naughty to fret, but I do think 
that washing dishes and keeping things tidy is the 
worst work in the world. 

Amy. I don't believe any of you have as "tr>'inger" 
(girls laugh) a time as I do, for you don't have to 
go to school with impertinent girls, who laugh at your 
dresses, insult you when your nose isn't nice, and 
label your father if he isn't rich. 

Jo. (Laughing ) If you mean libel, I'd say so 
and not talk as if papa was a pickle bottle. 

Amy. (With injured dignity) I know what I 
mean, and you needn't be "statirical" (Laugh) about 
it. It's proper to use good words and to improve 
your "vo-co-labilary." (Laugh) 

Jo. (Chuckling over Amy's two blunders and 
bent on teasing her) Girls, do you remember the 
night Amy went to bed, with a clothes-pin on her 
nose to uplift that offending feature? 

Amy. (As the others laugh, evidently nettled at 
being teased) Well, it wouldn't have been crooked 
if you hadn't dropped me into the coal hod when I 
was a baby. (Slams dozvn drazving board) I intend 
to take time by the fetlock and improve myself. (All 
laugh. Rise) And you may laugh all you please, so 
there ! 

Jo. Oh, indeed! (Mockingly.) 

Amy. My one comfort is that Mother doesn't 
take tucks in my dresses v/hen I'm naughty. 



12 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg. Tucks in your dresses? Amy, what do 
you mean? 

Amy. Maria Park's mother does, and, my dear, 
it's really dreadful, for sometimes she is so bad her 

frock is up to her knees (Pointing to knees) 

and she can't come to school at all. (Shout from all) 

Jo. Well, I call that mean. 

Amy. So do I, and when I think of that "degra- 
derration/' I feel that I can bear even my crooked 
nose and my purple gown with yellow skyrockets 
on it. 

Jo. (Disdainfully) You do fuss so over clothes. 
Amy. I call it silly. 

Amy. (Takes up board, indignantly ) I don't in- 
tend to let myself be a frump, like some girls I 
know. (Meaningly towards Jo.^ 

Jo. Oh, dear me, let's be elegant, or die 1 (Flops 
down again on back — head to audience. Begins to 
whistle ''Yankee Doodle'' softly and drums on the 
floor ) 

Amy. (With reproving look toward ]o) Jo does 
use such slang words. (]o whistles louder) Don't, 
Jo, it's so boyish. 

Jo. That's why I do it. (Sits up,) Thank 
Heaven, I've a boy's spirit under my bib and tucker. 

(Ready Clock r. 

Amy. I detest rude, unladylike girls. 

Jo. I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits. (Amy 
slams down board.) 

Beth. (Sings) "Birds in their little nests agree." 
(All laugh and grow cheerful again.) 

Meg. (Very dignified) You are old enough to 
leave off boyish tricks, Josephine. It didn't matter 
so much when you were a little girl, but now you 
are so tall and turn up your hair, you should remem- 
ber that you are a young lady. 

Jo. (Yanks off her hair net. Pulling down her 



LITTLE WOMEN 13 

hair, which hangs down her hack in long, chestnut 
mane) Vm. not, and if turning up my hair makes 
me one, I'll wear it in two tails till I'm twenty. I 
hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss March, 
and wear long gowns and be as prim as a china-aster. 
(Sits up very straight and prim.) 

(Ready Door Bell) 

Meg. You needn't be prim — only girlish and 

Jo. (Breaking in) Girlish! Humph! It's bad 
enough being a girl anyway, when I like boys' games 
and work and manners. (Crossing one leg.) I can't 
get over my disappointment in not being a boy, and 
it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go to the 
war and fight, with papa, and I can only stay at home 
and knit like a pokey old woman. (Imitating Aunt 
March again. Leans forward for Beth's business.) 

Beth. (Smoothing Jo''s head with tender hand) 
Poor Jo, it's too bad, but it can't be helped. So you 
must try to be content with making your name boy- 
ish and playing brother to us girls. 

Meg. As for you. Amy (Amy smiles, ex- 
pecting praise — it changes to a martyr's expression 
and then a pout.) — ^you are altogether too particular 
and prim. Your airs are funny now, but if you don't 
take care, you'll grow up an affected little goose. I 
like your nice manners and refined way of speaking, 
when you don't try to be elegant ; but your absurd 
words are just as bad as Jo's slang. 

(Clock strikes Five R.J 

(Meg puts work in hag. Amy goes to the window c. 
in a huff at being censured. Meg rises from 
chair seat. Jo, during this general movement, 
on her knees with back to audience, rolls up 
hair — puts on net — makes long reach for apple 
without getting up — takes manuscript from 
chair — flops around into sitting position — hack 



14 LITTLE WOMEN 

against chair and feet straight out. Beth goes 

R.C.) 

Beth. If Jo is a tomboy and Amy a goose, what 
am I, please? 

Meg. (^r.c. warmly) You're a little dear, and 
nothing else. 

(Meg takes ragbag to closet under stairway, Beth 
joins Amy at baywindow c. As Meg reaches 
foot of stairs, doorbell r. rings and Meg turns in 
from staircase and crosses to hall door. It's 
an old-fashioned bell on a spring and rings in 
the kitchen off r. Hannah enters r. 3, wiping 
hand on apron, gets to center — pauses — looks, 
and turns and stalks back,) 

Meg. I'll go, Hannah. 

(Hannah exits r. 3. Meg exits to hall l i.j 

Voice. (Outside) Good evening, Miss Meg. 
Here's a note for you. 

Meg. Oh, thank you! (Closes door and goes to 
desk L. Shivers.) 

Amy. (Half-tearf$tlly to Beth, who has fol- 
lowed her to Tjmndow and puts her arm around her) 
Jo does pick at me so. She laughs at my statues 
and makes fun of my manners. 

Beth. Dear old Jo, she can't understand your 
liking to draw, because all she wants to do is to read 
and write plays and stories. 

Amy. (Still injured) Well, she needn't think I 
like her old stories, 'cause I don't. (She snaps this 
at Jo, who pays no attention. Meg has opened letter, 
letter in hand, vivacious and smiling,) 

Meg. (Calls excitedly) Jo, Jo, where are you? 
(At desk.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 15 

Jo. (Mouth full of apple and evidently absorbed 
in her story) Here. 

Meg. (Goes to fire-place and sits l., of Jo on the 
rug in front of armchair by fire-place) Such fun — 
only see! A regular note of invitation from Mrs. 
Gardner. (Waving the note and proceeding to read 
it. Beth comes down and listens, to back armchair 
at fire-place. Amy drops down slowly c.) "Mrs. 
Gardner would be happy to see Miss March and Miss 
Josephine at a little dance on Christmas Eve." I'm 
sure Marmee will let us go. Now what shall we 
wear? 

Jo. (Mouth full of apple, of which she has taken 
a fresh bite) What's the use of asking that, when 
you know we shall wear our poplins, because we 
haven't got anything else? 

Meg. (Sighing) If I only had a silk! 

Jo. I'm sure our pops look like silks and they are 
nice enough for us. Yours is as good as new. 
(Turns to Meg. j Oh, I forgot the burn in mine. 
Whatever shall I do? (Amy has dropped down c. 
Right of table c, listening.) 

Meg. The burn? 

Jo. Yes, I scorched it, standing with my back to 
the fire. (Amy and Beth exclaim.) 

Amy. (Turns, moves to front of table.) An- 
other of your boyish tricks. Jo, you are certainly 
"in-corr-rig-able." (Gathers up pencils, etc., from 
table. Moving in front to l. of table c.) 

Jo. (Too exercised about her frock to laugh at 
Amy's blunder.) That burn shows dreadfully. 

Beth. (Leaning over back of chair. Anxiously) 
Can't you drop a little black velvet bow on it ? 

Amy. (Over her shoulder.) Wouldn't that look 
nice ? A bow in the middle of her back ! (Goes up 
to L. of bay window r.c. to her table. Sits.) 

Meg. You'll just have to stay still and keep your 



i6 LITTLE WOMEN 

back out of sight. Your front is all right. How 
about your gloves ? 

Jo. (Indifferently) They're spoilt with lemon- 
ade, so I shall have to go without. 

Meg. (Horrified) Oh, you must have gloves, or 
I won't go. You can't dance without them, and if 
you do, I should be so mortified ! 

Jo. Then I'll stay still. I don't care much for 
company dancing, anyhow. I like to fly round and 
cut capers. 

Meg. Can't you make them do ? 

Jo. No ! I'll tell you how we can manage — each 
wear one good one and carry a bad one. 

Meg. (Reluctantly) Your hands are bigger than 
mine, and you will stretch my gloves dreadfully. 

Jo. (Taking up her Mss.) Then I'll go without. 
I don't care what people say. 

Meg. You may have it, you may. Only don't 
stain it, and do behave nicely. Don't put your hands 
behind you or say Christopher Columbus, or call 
things "Plummy," will you? 

Jo. (Grinning.) Don't worry about me, I'll be 
as prim as I can be. 

Meg. Have you a nice pocket handkerchief ? 

Jo. Oh, yes, a plummy one. 

Meg. (Reproachfully) Oh, Jo! 

Jo. I mean, it's spandy nice. You're like Marmee. 
I believe she would ask if we had handkerchiefs if 
we were all running away from an earthquake. 

(Beth grins, goes up and joins Amy c. in window. 
Amy rises.) 

Meg. (Rises, gets to r.c. j It's one of her aristo- 
cratic tastes and quite proper. Mind you keep your 
back out of sight, Jo. 

Jo. I know I shall forget. If you see me doing 



LITTLE WOMEN 17 

anything wrong, just remind me by a wink, will you ? 

Meg. No, winking isn't ladylike. 

Jo. How do you learn to be so proper? (Meg 
goes to front of table, stops, looks at her reproach- 
fully, Jo opening her manuscript again and settling 
down to write,) All right, all right. Now go and 
answer your note and let me finish The Witch's 
Curse. 

(Meg goes to desk l. Beth and Amy wave and 
call *'oo-hoo" to Laurie from window c. Meg 
waves from desk — window l. j 

Beth. ^r. of Amy at c. window) There goes 
Laurie on his new horse. (All except Jo wave hands 
to Laurie and call ''Laurie.'' ) How well that boy 
rides ! 

Amy. (Turning to girls.) Laurie is a perfect 
Cyclops, isn't he? 

(Beth goes to piano, smiling.) 

Jo. (Looking up from her work, indignantly) 
How can you say that, when he's got both his 
eyes 

Amy. (Coming down c. a little) I didn't say 
anything about his eyes, and I don't see why you 
need fire up when I admire his riding. 

Jo. (Roaring) Oh, my goodness! That little 
^oose means a centaur, and she calls him a Cyclops! 

Amy. You needn't be so rude. It's only a "lapse 
of lingy," as our teacher says. 

(Beth then starts in to sing to stop the little wrangle 
— *'The Land of the Leal" — one verse — Amy 
and Meg join in softly. Beth plays a few 
chords after; then exits to dining room r. This 
is Father's favorite song, and it saddens them all 



i8 LITTLE WOMEN 

for a moment. Jo flops on to her stomach on the 
floor at fireplace and writes manuscript furi- 
ously. Amy, at her table in the bay window, 
occupies herself with a clay figure she is model- 
ing. Meg goes to r. of table c. and fakes up 
work basket. Beth gets bread, toasting fork 
and plate and comes directly back; sits on rug 
before fire.) 

Jo. (Rising) Well, IVe finished "The Witch's 
Curse," Meg. We've got to rehearse our parts in 
costume and with the scenery and get used to 'em. 
(Goes to R.cJ There's lots to do about that play- 
before Christmas night. (]o marches up and down 
the room, r.c, her hands behind her back.) 

Meg. (Who has resumed her embroidery.) I 
don't mean to act any more after this time. 

Jo. (Stops R.c.) What? 

Meg. I'm getting too old for such things. 

Jo. (Down stage R.) You won't stop, I know, as 
long as you can trail around in a long gown, with 
your hair down, and wear gold paper jewelry. Why, 
you're the best actress we've got, and there'll be an 
end to everything if you quit the boards. (Turns 
R.J Well, come here, Amy, and do the fainting 
scene, for you're as stiff as a poker in that. 

Amy. I can't help it. (Rises. Comes dozvn r.c. 
by Meg's chair.) I never saw anyone faint, and I 
don't choose to make myself all black and blue, 
tumbling flat as you do. If I can go down easily, 
I'll drop, if I can't, I shall fall into a chair and be 
graceful. (Funny awkward pose.) 

Jo. Oh ! Oh, do it this way (Throws man- 
uscript down.) clasp your hands so, and stagger 
across the room, crying frantically, "Roderigo, save 
me, save me! Save me!"' (]o goes to l., throws 
herself against door l.i. Climax last "Save me." 
Amy works down stage to r.c. Jo does this, with 



LITTLE WOMEN 19 

melodramatic scream and with much intensity, turns 
— nonchalantly with hack to door as she says) 
There you are — now you do it. 

('Amy follows, poking out her hands stiffly and go- 
ing to L.c. bus, — jerking herself along as if she 
went by machinery.) 

Amy. (Perfectly expressionless in face and 
voice.) "Roderigo, save me ! Save me ! Save me !" 

Jo. (In despair.) Scream, Amy, scream as if 
you were calling for help. 

Amy. **0w !" (Her scream is an "Oiif' of dis- 
tress, far mrore than of melodramatic anguish.) 

(]o business of disgust. Meg roars; Jo groans and 
makes despairing gesture. Beth, toasting bread 
before the fire, lets it burn while she watches the 
fun.) 

Jo. (Throws up hands as she strides up stage.) 
It's no use — no use. Do the best you can when the 
time comes, and if the audience laughs, don't blame 
me. (AuY goes up and sits on lower step of stairs 
in a huff — chin in hands, elbows on knees.) Come 
on, Meg. Do the incantation scene with the love 
potion ! 

Meg. (Rummaging in her work basket, produces 
a small bottle, rising, she holds the bottle well for- 
ward, to attract attention, and half chants:) 

"Hither I come 
From my airy home 
Afar in the silver moon. 

(Holds out bottle.) 
Take the magic spell 
And use it well 
Or its power will vanish soon." 



20 LITTLE WOMEN 

Jo. (As Ernest the lover, goes to Meg, 
snatches the wooden dagger from table, and kneel- 
ing before Meg, declaims) "By me trusty sword. 
(Dagger up.) I swear that Ernest L'Estrange — 
shall pay, pay royally, for this priceless gift, (Dag- 
ger back.) a love potion with which to win the lovely 
Zara." (Takes vial with deep how. Bus. of look- 
ing at each other to see whose cue it is. With a total 
change of voice.) Come on, come on, Amy, that's 
your cue. 

Amy. Oh, dear, I never can remember. (Rises 
quickly and comes d.l. Amy recites in a perfectly 
expressionless voice.) " 'Tis like a dream, so 
strange, so terrible. (Looks between Meg and Jo. 
Jo groans and handles the dagger meaningly.) He 
whom I thought so gentle and so true is stained 
with fearful crimes, — poor murdered lady — ^have I 
escaped a fate like thine.'* (]o rises, stamps foot 
and goes R.c.j Ah, I hear his step. Now, heart, 
be firm." (Bus. of hand on heart — wrong side — 
corrects it.) 

Jo. (Parenthetically) I'm the villain now, re- 
member. (Goes to Amy l.c. a little up stage. Voice 
changes to melodramatic threatening. Jo grasps 
Amy's arm, frightening her.) "Proud lady, if thou 
wilt not love, I'll make thee learn to fear the heart 
thou hast so scornfully cast away. Thou shalt rue 
the day when Count Rudolpho asked and was re- 
fused. But I will win thee yet — and then — Be- 
ware!" (Rolls ''r.^' Turns away, folds arms and 
drops head — tragic pose.) 

Amy. (]o snaps fingers under her folded arms 
and pantomimes "Go on." Amy gasps, so interested 
she forgets she's acting, suddenly recovers. Voice 
still expressionless, also a bit uncertain about her 
lines.) "Do thy worst, murderer. Spirits will watch 
over me — (Hand over head.) and thou canst not 
harm. Adieu (Adoo) my lord"! Adieu. 



LITTLE WOMEN 21 

(Bows low — hacks away to l. Amy uses perfectly 
sweet, pleasant voice in her acting.) 

Jo. Don't say *'adoo"— say *'adyeux"— -let the 
*'eu" stop in your nose, f Amy feels nose, sits L. on 
chair below desk L.J The next scene is in Normals 
cave. 

Meg. (Rises and goes quickly behind the wing- 
chair R. and crosses from tt, bent over and with hands 
clasped and raised like an old witch. As Norma — 
cracked voice. Jo goes up stage l. and takes pose as 
villain and works up this scene with Meg.) "Sinful 
man, thy hour of reckoning has come. 'Twas / who 
bore thy murdered wife to a quiet grave and raised 
her spirit to affright and haunt thee. I warned Hugo 
and betrayed thee to his power. Thy victims are 
avenged and Normals work is done. Her curse has 
sealed thy doom. Farewell! Farewell! (Backing 
up to back of armchair at fireplace. Ending with a 
cackling, sinister laugh) Ha! Ha! Ha!" (Disap- 
pears behind chair.) 

Jo. (As the villain, Rudolpho, up l.c.J "Help, 
help, the ghosts ! They torture me. The souls of the 
murdered, they haunt me! See! See! (Stamps 
her foot and points suddenly L., and Amy jumps and 
szvings her feet to L.j The demons gather about. 
How fast they come, how fast ! Old Norma is mut- 
tering her spells. Let me go ! Let me go ! (Comes 
down stage l.c. in a desperate melodramatic struggle 
with herself.) Hugo ! Norma ! Zara ! Pity, pity ! 
Let not Ernest L'Estrange reach me ! — Ah !" 

(As if stabbed — does funny flop — in a heap. Meg 
comes down r.c. Jo sits up, rubbing her elbows, 
enjoying the sensation she has caused. Girls 
much impressed, not sure Jo hasn't killed her- 
self.) 



22 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg. (Coming down to R. of table c.) It's the 
best we've had yet. (Sits r. of table c.) 

Beih. (In awe.) I don't see how you can act 
and write such splendid things, Jo. You're a regu- 
lar Shakespeare. (^Beth has taken bread from 
toasting fork and unconsciously slips fork into a 
slipper which she holds out toward the fire.) 

Jo. (Modestly, gets to l. of table,) Not quite! 
(Rubbing her elbow.) But I think it would be 
great for Meg and me to go on the stage. We could 
make lots of money, perhaps, and it's a very gay 
life. I shall write tragic plays and be a second Sid- 
dons. I'd love to do Macbeth, if we only had a trap 
door for Banquo. I've always wanted to do the 
killing part. (Makes sudden turn R. and stamp of 
foot which makes Meg, who is sitting r. of table, 
jump. Mutters — in stage whisper:) "Is this a dag- 
ger that I see before me ?" 

('Meg shrinks with fear at the reality of Jo*s acting 
— funny turn in chair. Jo imitates traditional 
bus. going front of table, Meg catches sight of 
slipper.) 

Meg. (Acting first part of line,) No, it's the 
toasting fork. (Laughing.) With mother's old shoe 
on it. Beth's stage-struck. 

(General scream of laughter from all. Sound of 
the street door. Enter Mrs. March ist. Comes 

to L.C.J 

Mrs. March. Glad to find you so merry, my 
girls. (At door L.) 
All. Marmee ! 

("Mrs. March goes to c, surrounded by girls. Amy 
L. of Marmee, takes handbag and goes l. and 



LITTLE WOMEN 23 

puts it in closet. Meg, at her r., takes shawl 
and bonnet and goes r. and hack of table c. to 
closet L.u. After greeting c. Jo goes to fireplace 
and pokes fire, Beth puts toast down and takes 
off Marmee's arctics — which Meg comes, gets 
and takes into dining room and flies back to 
Marmee, who has kept on crossing to fireplace 
where she sits in armchair.) 

Mrs. March. Well, dearies, how have you got on 
to-day ? 

Jo. (On Beth's little seat below fireplace.) Oh, 
we've had a "plummy" day. 

Mrs. March. There was so much to do. getting 
the boxes for the soldiers ready, that I didn't come 
home to dinner. 

Beth. We missed you, Marmee. 

Mrs. March. (In chair at fireplace.) Has any- 
one called, Beth ? How is your cold, Meg? 

Meg. It's better, Marmee. 

Mrs. March. Jo, you look tired to death. 
Come and kiss me, baby. (Sits in armchair, Beth 
places slippers. Amy at arm of chair r. kisses her. 
Meg takes slippers, kneeling l. of Mrs. March. 
Beth and Meg put on mother's slippers, putting her 
shoes by the fire — and a small foot-stool under her 
feet. Amy at back of chair r. of mother, putting 
things to rights. General bustle of welcome for the 
queen of the household.) Girls, I heard from Father 
to-day. 

(Position: Jo on Beth's stool at lower side of fire- 
place. Amy standing at r. of armchair back. 
Beth in front of armchair to the r. on the 
floor. Meg at l. of armchair to the l. on the 
floor.) 

Jo. (Rapturously) A letter! A letter! Three 
cheers for Father. 



24 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mrs. March. No, not a letter, dear, but a mes- 
sage from one of our soldiers who has been sent 
home on sick leave. Father is well and thinks he 
shall get through the cold season better than he 
feared. He sends all sorts of loving messages to his 
Little Women. 

Amy. It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a 
tent, and eat all sorts of bad-tasting things, and drink 
out of a canteen. 

(Quiet snicker from Jo at Amy's blunder, and even 
Mrs. March hides a smile. Beth comes 
quickly to the rescue, by breaking in.) 

Beth. When will he come home, Marmee? 

Mrs. March. Not for many months, dear, un- 
less he is sick. He will stay and do his work faith- 
fully, as long as he can, and we won't ask for him 
back a moment sooner than he can be spared. 

(Enter Hannah r. 3 — dining room.) 

Hannah, ("l. of armchair at fireplace) Miss' 
March, will you have your tea now? 

Mrs. March. If you please, Hannah. (Ring at 
door. Meg rises and starts.) 

(Bell R. NOTE: Old-fashioned doorbell rings in 
dining room R.3 when pulled 'L.ist.) 

Hannah. (Going to hall door L.i.^ Til go, 
mum. 

(Exits to hall.) 

Brooke. (Outside.) Well, Hannah? 
Hannah. (Outside.) Oh, Mr. Brooke. (Re- 
turning, announcing) Mister Brooke, mum. 

("Mrs. March rises and goes to r.c. Jo rises quickly 
and joins Meg. Enter Mr. Brooke, holds hat. 



LITTLE WOMEN 25 

Hannah goes from room and exits to dining 
room. Position: Mrs. March c. John l.c. 
Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy in line up r.c. Amy 
extreme rJ 

Mrs. March. (Holding out her hand.) Good 
afternoon, Mr. Brooke. 

(As they line up, Meg primps a little. Jo glares 
at her.) 

Brooke. Good afternoon, Mrs. March. Good 
afternoon — (To Girls. Brooke shakes hands with 
Mrs. March c. Meg greets Brooke with shy man- 
ner. Jo greets Brooke with boyish nod. Amy 
greets Brooke with affected little bow. Beth greets 
Brooke with little, old-fashioned curtsey. Brooke 
is particularly impressive in his manner to MEOy 
who acts a little conscious. Jo a bit stand-offish, the 
little girls shy and interested.) I come as an emis- 
sary both of peace and of war. Laurie begs permis- 
sion to attend the dress rehearsal, and I have come 
for those hospital supplies. They must go out to- 
night. 

Mrs. March. Certainly, Til get them directly. 
Girls, why not let Mr. Brooke and the Laurences 
come to your rehearsal ? 

Meg. (Comes forward a little.) Mercy, no, 
Mother, men are positively excluded. Laurie 
sneaked in our Pickwick Club, but even he can't 
wheedle me into allowing men at our rehearsal. 

Jo. Well, Tm sure Teddy won his Pickwick hon- 
ors, sitting on a ragbag in a stuffy closet for an hour, 
while you and Amy wrangled about admitting him. 

Amy. (As Brooke listens, visibly amused.) We 
don't want men at our little performances. They're 
sure to laugh — and I never can bear to be laughed 
at. 



26 LITTLE WOMEN 

Brooke. (Trying to keep his face sober,) Not 
a laugh, I swear it. Miss Meg, won't you relent? 

Meg. No, indeed, if men are admitted, I sha'n't 
play. 

Jo. What do you say, Beth ? Remember, it's our 
Laurie. 

Beth. (With most unwonted enthusiasm.) I 
say he shall come, and his g-randpa, too, if he likes. 

Jo. (Slapping leg.) Bully for you, Beth ! 

Mrs. March and Meg. Jo! (^Meg gives Jo re- 
proving look.) 

Jo. (Turn to Meg.j Meg, be a good sort and 
give in. 

(READY BELL. 

Meg. (Wavering) Til think about it. 

Jo. (Goes to back, upsets chair at back of table 
c.) Well, hurry up. I must set the stage and get 
into my costume. 

(Exit Jo upstairs with a rush.) 

Mrs. March. (Goes to library door r.i. j Beth, 
Amy, help me collect the hospital things, please, and 
Meg, entertain Mr. Brooke while we are gone. 

(Exit Mrs. March, Beth and Amy into Study. 
Meg gives a little start after mother and sis- 
ters as if to say: ''Don't leave me alone ziHtH 
Mr. Brooke." Then turns and gives an em- 
barrassed little laugh as her eyes meet Brooke's. 
Brooke up stage l. replaces chair back of table, 
comes down to Meg, r.c, and takes folded 
manuscript paper from pocket and hands it to 
Meg.J 

Brooke. Here's the translation of the little 
French song Laurie promised you, Miss March. 
Meg. (Looking it over.) How very sweet, but 



LITTLE WOMEN 27 

this isn't Laurie's writing. Did you make the trans- 
lation for me, Mr. Brooke? r •. r 
Brooke. The song has always been a favorite ot 

mine — and— — 

(His sentence is interrupted by the furious ringing 
of the doorbell and rat tat tat on the brass 
knocker.) 

(BELL R. VERY LOUD, 

Laurie. (Outside.) What ho— within there— 
What ho! 

Brooke. My soul! 

Meg. Gracious me, what is that? 

(Enter Hannah, rushing through room to answer 
door.) 

Hannah. The saints preserve us ! Is the house 
on fire? 

(Exits to hall. Amy and Beth enter from study. 
Mrs. March following more leisurely, her arms 
filled with the supplies.) 

Amy Beth and Mrs. March. (Speaking to- 
gether.) What's the matter, Hannah? What is it? 
Laurie. (In hall.) Hello, Hannah! 
Hannah. Oh, it's Mr. Laurie. 

(Enter Laurie, flushed and breathless, his arms filled 
with flozvers, an unframed picture under his 
arm, cap in hand.) 

Laurie. Good afternoon, everybody! ("Han- 
nah re-enters room and goes to dining room, where 
she exits. Beaming on the boy. Mrs. March goes 
to R. of table. Laughing. Puts bundle on table. 



28 LITTLE WOMEN 

Laurie presenting flowers to Mrs. March.J For 
you, Madam Mother, with grandpa's compliments. 

Mrs. March. Oh, thank you, Laurie. (Sits l. 
of c. table.) 

Laurie. (Throws cap in chair u) Well, I've 
come for the rehearsal. How about it ? 

Meg. f R.C.J We'll see. 

{^Beth takes vase from mantel, goes into din- 
ing room, returning quickly to back of table c. 
Amy joins her mother — l. of table c.) 

Jo. (Calling from above.) Hurry up, Meg*, time 
for you and Amy. 

Meg. Yes, Jo, I'm coming. (Smiles shyly at 
Brooke, who is r.) 

(Goes back and upstairs. Mrs. March has put the 
flowers in the vase. Now rises and crosses to 
fireplace. Brooke takes them from her and 
places on mantel. Beth goes up c.) 

Laurie, {"l.c. Handing Amy the picture.) 
Here's the Madonna you wanted to copy, little Ra- 
phael. 

Amy. (h.c. Sincerely, goes to him, taking it eag- 
erly.) Thank you so much, Laurie. I've tried to 
draw it from memory, but the woman's face is not 
good. It's too beautiful for me to draw; but the 
baby was better, and I love it so much. I love to 
think He was a little child once, for then I don't 
seem so far away, and that helps me. 

(This speech should be spoken so directly to Laurie 
that the others do not hear. Laurie's reply in 
the same way.) 

Laurie. (Gently, her mood evidently chiming in 



LITTLE WOMEN 29 

with certain longings of his own.) Try again, dear. 
Even Raphael didn't succeed with his first Madonna. 
Jo. (Calling from above) Come on up, Amy, 
time for you. 

(CRASH READY LEFT UPSTAIRS.) 

Amy. (Starts to run, then walks up very lady- 
like.) All right. 

^Amy exits with picture upstairs.) 

Laurie. (Calling from the foot of stairs.) Jo, 
Jo, come down quick. I've something- to tell you. 

Jo. (Still from above.) Go away, Teddy, I'm 
"busy ! 

Beth. (Joining Laurie, and both going to bay 
^ndow. To Lauriej Jo's busy setting the stage, 
Laurie. See the Christmas roses ? (Turning to the 
-window.) How beautiful they are! You didn't 
think they would bloom. 

fBETH picks a rosebud and fastens it in his but- 
tonhole.) 

Brooke, ("r.c. To Mrs March, who goes to 
front of c. table. Glancing upstairs.) Doesn't look 
very hopeful about the rehearsal, Mrs. March. 

Mrs. March. (Smiling.) I wish you might see 
the fun, but Meg is getting a little conscious over 
their stage frolics and I'm afraid Jo can't tease her 
into admitting you. 

(fBROOKE goes r. A long, wailing scream from Amy. 
Crash upstairs — Amy and Jo's voices. Amy 
cries. Jo scolds. Meg laughs.) 

Laurie. Jupiter Ammon! (As Mrs. March 



30 LITTLE WOMEN 

starfs toward stairs, old Hannah, evidently fright- 
ened at the noise, appears in the doorway r. 3. She- 
is floury and her hands are rolled in her apron.) 
All serene here, Hannah. Racket was upstairs^ 
Hannah. It's them girls, rehearsing again, and 
the Missus never says a word. 

('Hannah throws up hands, exits grumbling. Beth: 
comes to c. back of table. Laurie goes down 
R.c. to Brooke. Mrs. March l. Meg has 
started to come down. She is laughing and 
carries her witch's cloak and beard as she runs 
down.) 

Mrs. March, (u) Anyone hurt, Meg? 

Meg. (Coming downstairs and to -l.) Oh, no. 
The pasteboard tower fell just as Ernest was try- 
ing to carry off Zara. They all came down to- 
gether, f All roar.) 

Laurie. Was Jo furious? 

Meg. (Down l.; I didn't wait to find out. All 
I could see was Amy's head and Jo's russet boots^ 

Mrs. March l. wiV/t Meg. Meg puts cloak, h<U^ 
beard on chair at desk l. Jo stamps down the^ 
stairs, scolding under breath at Amy's stupid- 
ity — Roderigo costume. Black satin breeches- 
and jerkin; flowing cape, chapeau and russet- 
top boots, which keep falling down, at sight of 
which Brooke and Laurie roar. Meg goes i^ 
near desk.) 

Jo. (^L.c. Pulling cloak around her.) Be quiet^ 
you bad boy. I thought you had gone home. 

Laurie, (c.) Where on earth did you get the 
boots? 

Jo. (c. Putting bootleg up and holding out one 
leg for them to see. Looking down at them 



LITTLE WOMEN 3i 

proudly.) Aren't they great? I got 'em from a 
friend who knows a lady who knows an actor. 

Brooke. They're certainly fetchmg. 

Meg Tl. Annoyed at Jo's appearance.) Uti, 
-o and dress, Jo. (]o makes funny turn and hat 
falls off) You're ridiculous in that costume. 

Jo. All right, don't bother, I will. Wait, Teddy, 
I'll be back in a jiffy. 

Laurie. All right, Jo. 

{Back of table c. Exit Jo, falling upstairs over her 
hoots and stepping into her cloak— on second 
part of stairs.) 

Brooke. Then there will be no rehearsal? 

Meg. Not before to-morrow. It will take time 
to repair the ravages to Zara's tower. 

Brooke. (Taking package of supplies from table 
c under his arm, coming c.) I must hurry along. 
I'll stop at your grandfather's on my way back, 
Laurie, and leave that Latin book for you. 

Laurie. All right, Professor. (At foot of 

stairs.) ,r ,/r 1 

Brooke. Good-by, Mrs. March. 

/Brooke shakes hands with Mrs. March l.c 
Starts to shake hands with Meg, who is l- -^ ^ 
moves to l. of table c, hesitates, as he sees Meg 3 
shy embarrassment, then goes l., gets his hat 
from chair below desk, opens door l.i. and turns 
and says good-by to Meg, in confidential under- 
standing manner. Exits; Laurie gets this busi- 
ness and smiles. Meg goes up to l. window to 
look out after Brooke. After Brooke's exit, 
Mrs. March sits l. of table c.) 

(VOICE READY l. 



32 LITTLE WOMEN 

Laurie. Won't some of you come for a drive? 
Brooke has been making me study hard all day. 
Beth, run up and ask Jo and Amy to get ready, and 
you come along, too. 

Beth. Thank you, Laurie, we'd love to go. I'll 
tell Jo and Amy. 

(Exit Beth upstairs.) 

Laurie. How about you, Meg ? 

Meg. Much obliged, but I'm busy. (Goes to r. 
"of table c. and takes up sewing.) 

Laurie. (Leaning affectionately over the hack 
of Mrs. March's chair l. of table c.) Anything I 
can do for you. Madam Mother ? 

(BELL R.> 

Mrs. March. (Bell rings — Hannah goes ta 
hall.) No, thank you. (Pause.) Except call at the 
office, if you'll be passing, dear. It's our day for a 
letter, and Father is as regular as the sun. 

(VOICE L.I.E. & TELEGRAM.) 

Voice. (Outside l.i. j Telegram for Mrs. March. 
Sign here. 

/Hannah re-enters with telegram, which she hands 
to Mrs. March, as if she feared it would ex- 
plode.) 

Hannah, (i..) It's one of them horrid tele- 
graph things, ma'am. fMRS. March rises, fright- 
ened — hesitates — then smiles and takes it, opens and 
reads it, l.c. — almost faints) 

Mrs. March. Girls! Girls! Your Father 

/Laurie places chair for her. Meg goes to mother, 
places her in chair l. of table c. — Meg r. of her 



LITTLE WOMEN 33 

— paper falling to the floor. Hannah supports 
her. Laurie rushes to dining room for water.) 

Meg. (Dropping on knees beside her.) Marmee, 
what is it? ^Meg calls out) Girls, girls, come 
quick ! 

(^Laurie returns to back of table with the water, 
which Meg gives to her mother. Three girls 
come rushing down the stairs, Jo last. She is 
in her dress.) 

Beth. Marmee ! 

Amy. Marmee ! 

Meg. It's that telegram. 

(]o picks up telegram and reads it in frightened 
voice.) 

Jo. (l.c.) "Your husband is very ill." 
All. Marmee ! 

Jo. "Come at once. S. Hale. Blank Hospital. 
Washington." (Goes to her mother l.) 

(^Laurie withdraws to bay window.) 

Mrs. March. (Stretching out her arms to her 
girls.) I must go, I must go at once ! It may be too 
late 

All. Marmee. f Girls sob.) 

Mrs. March. Oh, children, children, help me to 
bear it ! 

(^Girls cluster around her sobbing, "Marmee, 
Father." Hannah at right, back of table, Jo l. 
and Amy at r. of chair. Meg kneeling on floor 
to r. of Marmee. Beth kneeling on floor to 
l. of Marmee.j 

Hannah. (Half sobbing.) The Lord help the 



34 LITTLE WOMEN 

dear man. I won't waste no time a cryin', but get 
your things ready right away, mum ! 

(Exit Hannah upstairs.) 

Mrs. March. (Pulling herself together.) She 
is right ; there's no time for tears now. 

All. Marmee ! 

Mrs. March. Be calm, girls, and let Mother 
think. (^Beth and Amy drop upstage to foot of 
stairs. Jo l., Meg in front of table c.) Jo, 'give me 
a pencil and paper. Where's Laurie? 

CJo gets a pencil and paper from desk L. Meg turns 
R. for Laurie.^ 

Laurie. (Down r. of table to c, coming to her 
quickly from window where he has been standing 
with his back turned.) Here, ma'am, oh, let me do 
something ! 

Mrs. March. Send a telegram saying I'll come 
at once. The next train leaves at six o'clock, I think. 
I'll take that one. (She scribbles a note hastily, Jo 
looking over her shoulder.) 

Laurie. What else ? The horses are ready, I can 
go anywhere, do anything. 

Mrs. March. (Handing him the note she has 
just folded.) Leave this note at Aunt March's. 
Now go, dear ('Laurie goes l.), and don't kill your- 
self driving at a desperate pace. 

(Exit Laurie, front door L.i J 

Jo. (l.c) Mother, you ask that old dragon for 
money ? 

Mrs. March. Jo, I had to. I haven't five dol- 
lars in my purse. 



LITTLE WOMEN 35 

Jo. Her rheumatism's been bad to-day, and she's 
sure to refuse. (Goes to l J 

Mrs. March. (Quietly) Father needs me, and 
some way will be provided. (Starts to make mem- 
orandum.) I cannot think that Aunt March will 
refuse at a time like this. 

Jo. Well, you've got more faith in her than I 
have. She always croaks if you ask her for a nine- 
pence. (Stops and ponders, at desk l., puts hands 
on her head, shuts her lips firmly at last, as if de- 
cided upon her course, obviously fishing for an ex- 
cuse. Coming down.) Hadn't I better go over to 
the hospital rooms, Marmee, and tell them you'll not 
be there to-morrow ? 

Mrs. March. (Writing on slip of paper.) Yes, 
dear. ("Jo goes to closet and gets cloak, bonnet and 
mittens.) If you will, I had quite forgotten — and, 
Jo. on your way please stop at the drug store and get 
these things. (Handing her the paper. Exit Jo hall 
door L.i.j Amy, tell Hannah to get down the leather 
trunk. (Exit Amy, upstairs.) Beth, run over and 
ask Mr. Laurence for a couple of bottles of old wine ; 
I'm not too proud to beg for Father. (Grabbi}tg 
shawl and hood from closet, exit Beth front door 
L.I. Mrs. March rises and starts up. Meg goes 
up R. of table to back.) And Meg, come and help 
me find my things, for I'm half bewildered. 

(As Mrs. March gets to foot of stairs, she stag- 
gers. Meg catches her with frightened cry 
of:) 

Meg. Marmee! Now, Marmee, you come right 
over here and sit by the fire. (Leads her over to 
armchair at fireplace.) And let me find your things. 
You will need all the rest you can get. (Gets her in 
chair.) Hannah will help me pack and I'll bring 
you some tea. 



36 LITTLE WOMEN 

(Exit Meg to dining room. Hannah and Amy 
come down the stairs, bumping the trunk. Han- 
nah, grumbling and protesting, is bearing the 
lower, heavier weight of the trunk. Amy, ex- 
postulating, is evidently giving little help in car- 
rying, as she has hold of the handle in relaxed 
fashion. Hannah jerks trunk as she reaches 
foot of stairs, Amy stumbles down last three 
steps.) 
Hannah. (Coming downstairs.) This is a lot 
of nonsense! 
Amy. Mother said to bring the trunk down here. 
Hannah. (Still grumbling) Sakes alive! Guess 
I packed trunks before you were born. Where will 
you have this, mum? (Reaching r.c. Turning to 
Mrs. March and indicating trunk) Here? 

Mrs. March. Oh, no, in the dining room, please. 

^Hannah jerks trunk, nearly taking Amy off her 
feet.) 

Amy. Hannah, you're always so precipitious. 

(Exit Hannah and Amy dining room r. 3. Beth 
enters l.t., holding door open for Mr. Lau- 
rence, who enters directly after her. Mr. 
Laurence is loaded down, two bottles, cob- 
webby, of old wine, a muffler, the old-time 
woolen square, a mxin's shawl, such as Lincoln 
wore; a gay dressing gown and a pair of gay 
knitted slippers.) 

Mr. Laurence. (Gives Beth his hat. Beth 
puts it on chair L., takes off her shawl and hood and 
places same on seat under stairway, and goes at back 
to mother's R. as Mrs. March rises to meet him. 
Mr. Laurence trying to shake hands, but finding it 
impossible, as in addition to his gifts he has his gold- 



LITTLE WOMEN 37 

headed walking stick under his arm.) Viy dear 
madam (Coming to c), I am deeply grieved at this 
sad news ; but we will hope for the best. 

Mrs. March. It is all we. can do, sir. 

Mr. Laurence. (Handing her the wine.) This 
IS the wine you did me the honor to ask for, madam. 
(Reaching hack into his hip pocket, he produces a 
small flask, which he holds up to the light, after the 
manner of a connoisseur,) Here is some old peach 
brandy, which may prove useful! (Hands her the 
flask.) 

Mrs. March. Oh, thank you, Mr. Laurence, 
You are so kind. 

Mr. Laurence. Don't mention it, I beg of you. 
Hospital wards are often cold and cheerless, so I 
have ventured to offer my dressing gown — (Hand- 
ing her the gown) — and this heavy shawl. (Hand- 
ing her the shawl.) This muffler — (Gives her the 
muffler) — and these warm slippers — (Handing her 
the slippers, which he dangles in mid-air as she takes 
them.) — not beautiful, madam, but most comfort- 
able, I assure you. 

("Mrs. March is tearful and yet almost laughing, 
at the way he has loaded her down. She needs 
her handkerchief, hut her hands are full. Beth 
steps quietly over to her mother and dries Mrs. 
March's eyes with her own handkerchief, Mr. 
Laurence turns l. a little.) 

Mrs. March. Mr. Laurence, you are so thought- 
ful, so kind. I don't know how to thank you. 

('Mr. Laurence is evidently much moved. He 
reaches hack to his coat-tail pocket, and pro- 
duces a large white handkerchief, faultlessly 
folded, which he proceeds to shake out; hus. 
and blows his nose violently.) 



38 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mr. Laurence. Don't try to, ma'am, don't try. 
(Turns to her.) It will be a long, hard journey for 
a woman alone. May I offer myself as an escort? 

Mrs. March. Mr. Laurence, I couldn't think of 
letting you take that long journey. If you will only 
look after my girls when I am gone 

Mr. Laurence. As if they were my own, ma'am. 
I promise you, (Slight pause, and his next words 
are fraught with meaning. Puts his hand into his 
breast pocket.) Is there anything else I can do? 
Are you supplied with all the necessities ? 

Mrs. March. (Hesitating, as she gets his mean- 
ing that he will provide funds, if needed, evidently 
holding to her faith that Aunt March will come to 
the rescue.) Yes, thank you. I am sure all my 
wants will be met. 

Mr. Laurence. Don't hesitate to call upon me in 
any emergency. (He gets an idea, rubs his hands 
and goes to door l.i.^ I will be back directly. 
(Takes hat, opens door, throws end of muffler over 
shoulder, exits l.i. j Brrr 

CMrs. March stands with her arms filled with his 
gifts, looks down at the slippers and smiles 
sadly.) 

Mrs. March. (Speaking softly to herself.) Oh, 
the kind, generous gentleman ! (Turns to Beth and 

lays the things across her arms.) Meg — ah 

(So confused she calls "Beth, Meg"j Beth, take 
these to Meg, please, and tell her to pack them all 
carefully. (Emphasise the last word to express her 
tender appreciation.) 

Beth. Yes, Marmee ! I will. 

/Beth exits, leaving door open into dining room. 
Mrs. March returns to her chair by the fire 
whil-e this dialogue is heard off stage, takes off 



LITTLE WOMEN 39 

slippers — pulls on shoes, turns chair in toward 
fireplace and closes her eyes and rests.) 

Hannah. (Off.) Miss Beth, your Ma won't 
need those things no more'n a cat. What would 
she do with them in a hospital, child ? 

Beth. Mr. Laurence brought them for Father. 

(READY SLEIGH BELLS, l.J 

Meg. Please put them in the tray, Hannah, and 
Beth, go find mother's big shawl. She'll need that 
for traveling. Tell Amy to get together her bonnet, 
gloves and things, while I take in her tea. 

Hannah. My bread is riz, but I'll be right back 
and finish your ma's trunk, Miss Meg. 

(Meg enters from dining room, as Mr. Brooke en- 
ters, in haste, hat in hand, from hall door. He 
closes door and places hat on chair below, desk 
L. Meg, holding a tea tray in both hands and 
a pair of overshoes caught in one hand, m^ets 
Brooke just back of table c. At sight of Brooke 
she drops the rubbers and almost the tea, which 
Brooke rescues. Brooke grabs opposite edge 
of tea tray. Mrs. March, her back to the 
room, sitting with her head resting on her hand, 
is unconscious of either person.) 

Brooke. (Quietly) I'm very sorry to hear of this, 
Miss March. Mr. Laurence has commis'sions for 
me in Washington, and I have come to offer myself 
as escort to your mother. 

Meg. (Both holding tray.) How kind you are. 
It will be such a relief to feel that she has you to 
take care of her. Thank you very, very much. 
(They stand looking at one another for a minute. 
John leans toward her. Meg is evidently confused. 



40 LITTLE WOMEN 

for her next words are spoken hurriedly) Oh, I'm 
afraid this tea is getting cold — won't you come and 
speak to Mother? (Turning toward Mother.) 

Brooke. (Releasing her hand.) No, I won't 
trouble your mother now, but will be back with the 
sleigh in time. (Bus.: Brooke gets hat, opens 
door L.I., looks and almost inaudibly says:) Good- 
by. (To Megj 

(SLEIGH BELLS.) 

(^Meg carries the tea to her mother.) 

Meg. Here's your tea, Marmee, dear. 

Mrs. March. (Taking cup.) Thank you, Meg. 
Has Laurie returned from Aunt March yet? 

Meg. Not yet, dear! TMeg goes to window up 
C, hearing sleigh bells.) That may be Laurie now. 
(Looking out.) No, it's Aunt March herself, 

Mother ("Mrs. March rises) I'll let her in. 

(Starts toward door as she speaks.) Mr. Brooke 
was just here and will act as your escort to-night to 

Washington ("Mrs. March puts teacup on 

little stand r.) 

(SLEIGH BELLS STOP. VOICE HEARD.) 

Voice. "WHOA!" "Whoa!" 

f Meg hastens into hall to admit Aunt March J 

Meg. Oh, Aunt March. 

Aunt March. (Ad lib outside.) Oh, my knee, 
be careful, etc. (Enter Aunt March, comes c, 
Meg l.c. Very crabbed and short in manner, espe- 
cially so after any show of tenderness.) What's 
this, what's this I hear? March sick in Washing- 
ton? Serves him right, serves him right. I al- 
ways said it was absurd for him to go into the army. 



LITTLE WOMEN 41 

and perhaps next time he'll take my advice. (In 
front of table a little to l. of c. table.) 

Meg. Father did what he thought was right, 
Aunt March. (Down stage L.J 

Mrs. March. (Pushing forward an easy chair 
R. of table.) Won't you sit down, Aunt March? 

Aunt March. (Snappishly) No, I won't sit 
down. (Turns away.) A stronger man could have 
done more. Shouldn't have gone, shouldn't have 
gone. I knew he'd get fever or something; never 
did know how to take care of himself, or his money. 
You needn't be begging me for help now if he had. 
He'd give his last dollar or the shirt off his back to 
the first man who asked him. Where would I be 
now if I'd done the same, I'd like to know ? 

(READY LIGHTS, 

Mrs. March. I'm sorry to ask you for money. 
Aunt March, but I've nothing for the railroad jour- 
ney. 

Aunt March. Of course not, of course not. 
You're just as bad as he is and then expect me to 
come to the rescue. You may be willing to end 

your days in a poorhouse, but I'm not (Almost 

whining) I'm a sick, old woman, and I need all 
I've got. (Rubbing knees.) 

Mrs. March. The money will be repaid, Aunt 
March. 

(READY SLEIGH BELLS. 

Aunt March. (Snaps it at her,) Humph ! But 
when, I'd like to know ? Such wastefulness (Turns 
to Meg. j, gallivanting off to Washington on a scare 
telegram. I can't afford such trips. (Turns, goes to 
c, a little tearftdly) When you see my nephew, ask 
him what he means by going to the war, getting sick 
and then asking me to pull him out of the hole. 



42 LITTLE WOMEN 

(Stamps her foot and wrenches her knee, rubs it 
hard and groans.) What does he mean by it, I say, 
what does he mean ? Oh, oh ! My knee ! Why 
don't you ask me to sit down ? ^Mrs. March offers 
her chair R. of table. Aunt March refuses. Aunt 
March drops into chair l. of table c.) Where's 
Josephine? She's the only practical one in this 
family. 

Meg. Jo went out to do some errands for Mother. 
Laurie 

Aunt March. (Interrupting.) Just as I 
thought. She is probably gadding about with that 
rattle-pated boy. It's not proper. 

Mrs. March. (Quietly) Jo — (Pause.) — is not 
with Laurie, Aunt March. 

Aunt March. So much the better. Oh, my 
knee. (Bus. of rubbing left knee, sees her mistake — 
shifts hand quickly to right knee. Looks covertly 
to see if Mrs. March or Meg notices this.) My 
knee! I'll never sleep to-night. (Rises.) Tell 
Josephine to come and read to me. (Goes to door, 
Meg following anxiously.) I hope for good news 
of my nephew, but don't expect it. March never 
had much stamina. Good night. Ah ! (Feeling in 
her reticule and handing a roll of bills and a check 
to MegJ Here's the twenty-five you asked for, and 
a check for fifty more. Oh, I know there are plenty 
of bills to pay. 

(Ad lib exit, slamming door behind her so suddenly, 
that neither Mrs. March or Meg have the 
chance to say good night or thank you.) 

(Sleighbells, Meg drops and kisses her mother — giv- 
ing her the money.) 

Meg. Oh, Marmee! I was afraid she wasn't 
going to give it to you after all ! (Goes to fireplace, 
pokes fire.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 43 

Mrs. March. (Sits r. of fable.) I was sure she 
would, Meg. She has a kind heart, but is ashamed 
to show it. 

("Beth and Amy come creeping doztm the stairs, 
after peeking over the railing to see if Aunt 
March is gone. Beth has brooch, Amy her 
mother s bonnet and shawl and bag. The late 
afternoon light has been slowly fading during 
the Aunt March interview. Mrs. March has 
seated herself r. of table c. Beth, comes R. of 
her mother, Amy l.J 

Beth. Marmee! 

Amy. Marmee, we were afraid to come "down. 
She was a raging Vulcan. 

Meg. (At fireplace, laughing, in spite of her 
anxiety) Oh, Amy, if you mean a volcano, why 
don't you say so? 

Beth. She was kind about the money, though. 
(Hands Mrs. March an old-fashioned hair brooch.) 
Here's your brooch with Father's hair in it, Mar- 
mee. I thought you'd want to wear it. 

Mrs. March. (With emotion, pinning on the 
brooch) Thank you, dearie, f Meg goes to back of 

table c.) . . , rr. 

Beth. (Sound of someone stamping feet %n hall) 

That must be Jo. Lucky she missed Aunt March. 

(Enter Jo, hurriedly, looking blown about and dis- 
heveled, snow on hat and cape.) 

Jo. Saw Aunt March come out, so I dodged 
through the garden. I knew she wouldn't give us 
anything but advice, and from her face, I guess you 
got that in large doses. Well, we're independent of 

her, at any rate, Marmee, and (Putting roll of 

bills in her mother's lap.) here's my contribution 



iI4 LITTLE WOMEN 

toward making Father comfortable and bringing him 
home. 

Mrs. March. My dear! Where did you get it? 
Twenty-five dollars ! Jo, dear, I hope you haven't 
done anything rash? 

Jo. No, it's mine honestly, (l, of table c, takes 
off mittens and cape, throws them on chair l. of 
table c.) I didn't beg, borrow or steal it, I only sold 
what was my own. 

(Takes off her hat, showing her hair bobbed short, 
like a boy's. General outcry from all.) 

(READY SLEIGH BELLS. 

Mrs. March. Your hair, your beautiful hair! 

(Puts out her arms. Jo goes and drops on her 
knees. Head on mother's lap. Mrs. March 
kisses the shorn head.) 

Meg. (Back of table c.) Oh, Jo, how could 
you! 

Amy. (Back of table c.) Your one beauty ! 

Mrs. March. (Very tenderly) My dear. 
(Raising Jo's fa-ce and kissing her) There was no 
need of this. 

Beth. ('r. of Marmee.j She doesn't look hke 
my Jo any more, but — (Hugging her and crying at 
the same time.) — I love her dearly for it. 

Jo. (Rumpling up her hair.) It doesn't affect 
the fate of the nation, so don't wail about it, Beth. 
It will be good for my vanity. I was getting proud 
of my mop. Besides, it will cool my brain. I'm sat- 
isfied. 

CBeth rises, goes up stage back of Marmee. Amy 
comforts her.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 45 

Mrs. March. But I am not, Jo. I know how 
willing-ly you sacrificed your vanity, as you call it, 
for your love; but, my dear, it wasn't necessary. 
Aunt March has helped us (]o sits back, dis- 
appointed) And Tm afraid you'll regret it one of 
these days. 

Jo. Oh, no, I won't. (Rises, goes L.c.J 

Meg. What made you do it ? 

Jo. Well, I was wild to do something for Father, 
and I'd have sold the nose off my face for him, if 
anybody would have bought it. I've seen tails of 
hair, marked $40, not nearly as thick as mine. It 
was the only thing I had to sell, so I dashed into the 
shop and asked what they would give for it. 

Beth. I don't see how you dared ! 

(SLEIGH BELLS OFF u) 

Jo. Oh, he was a little man, who looked as if 
he only lived to oil his hair. He hesitated a little bit. 
I told him in my topsy-turvy way what I wanted 
the money for. His wife said, "Take it, Thomas, 
and oblige the young lady." 

Amy. Didn't you feel dreadfully when the first 
cut came? 

Jo. Well, I did feel queer when I saw the dear 
old hair laid out on the table. 

Laurie. All ready? 

(As he enters, followed almost immediately by Mr. 
Laurence and Mr. Brooke. j 

Laurie, ('l.c. Catching sight of Jo's shorn 
head) Jo, what the dickens have you done? Are 
you trying to make a porcupine of yourself ? You 
look like 

fjo turns up l.c. Meg puts arm around her.) 



46 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg. (Interrupting, speaking directly to Lau- 
RiEJ Hush, Laurie, don't say anything now. 

Mr. Laurence, (l.) Time to go, Madam. The 
conveyance is here. 

(The Girls gather around Mrs. March. Beth r., 
puts her bonnet on, then pulls the strings out, 
Meg puts on r. overshoe. Jo pulls on her l. 
overshoe and Amy puts on her shawl.) 

Mrs. March. (^Hannah drags in small hair 
cloth trunk. Brooke and Laurie go up r., take 
trunk and exit L.i. Mr. Laurence stands at door 
looking at his watch.) Children, I leave you to Han- 
nah's care and Mr. Laurence's protection. Don't 
grieve and fret, but go on with your work as usual. 
(Rises.) Hope and keep busy. Remember that you 
can never be fatherless. (Moving toward door l.i. 
Kissing Meg r. j Meg, dear, be prudent, watch over 
your sisters. (Kissing Jo -l.) Be patient, Jo, don't 
do anything rash or get despondent. (Kissing Beth 
L.J Comfort yourself with your music, deary. 
(Kissing Amy.) Amy, help all you can and be 
obedient. 

('Mrs. March puts left arm around Beth, upstage, 
and right around Amy downstage — Meg and 
Jo follow behind.) 

All. We will, Marmee, don't fret about us. 
(Ad lib, as they go to door L.J 

SLEIGH BELLS SLOWLY DIE AWAY,) 

(Exit all but Jo, who goes to window c. and stands 
there waving as the sleigh bells die away.) 

Mrs. March. (Outside, as sleigh bells start) 
God bless you, dearies. 



LITTLE WOMEN 47 

(As Meg returns, goes c. Beth and Amy enter and 
stand at the door l.i. Jo comes slowly down- 
stage R.c. She gives a little sob.) 

Meg. (Tenderly) Jo, dear, what is it? 

Jo. (Trying to stifle her emotions) I was just 
having a little private moan, that's all. 

Meg. Are you crying about Father? 

Jo. No, not now. 

Meg. What then? 

Jo. (This time a full-fledged wail) It's — it's — 
my — my hair! (Kneels beside chair R. of table c. 
Meg comforts her, leans over her in sympathy.) 

Hannah. (As the slow curtain begins to come 
dozvn, Hannah appears in the dining-room door, 
her eyes red from weeping, sniffling and trying to 
get hold of herself) Will yez have hash or fish- 
balls for breakfast, gurruls? 

QUICK CURTAIN 

(Second curtain. Hannah off. Beth kneeling at 
fireplace hugging Marmee's slippers. Meg in 
chair R. of c. table, with her arm around Jo.* 
Amy at door L. Third curtain — line up of Meg, 
Jo, Beth and Amy — curtsey.) 



ACT TWO 

Scene One: Same as Act One. 

Time: Three months later. Morning. Ma/rch, 
1864. 

Music at Rise: CURTAIN UP; "The Birds of 
Aherfeldy." 

Lights Full-up: No change. Medium curtain. 

Discovered: Mrs. March seated l. of table c, 
turned toward fireplace a little, sewing. Enter 
Laurie, l.i., slips down hack of her, puts two 
or three flowers in a slender vase beside her 
and gives her a hearty kiss and hug. Wing 
chair at fireplace removed — a small upholstered 
settee replaces it. 

Laurie. Good morning, Madam Mother ! 

Mrs. March. Oh, Laurie! 

Laurie. What report from Mr. March and 
Beth? 

Mrs. March. Both are better, I am happy to 
say. And it's good to have him home again. You 
never forget my nosegay, Laurie. 

Laurie. (Goes l.c.J Where's Jo? I've some- 
thing to tell her. 

Mrs. March. (Putting down her seiinng and 
rising) I'll send her to you, dear. She's playing 
nurse to Father and Beth in the study. (Goes from 
room to study door r.i.e. Takes vase of flowers 
with her,) 

48 



LITTLE WOMEN 49 

Laurie. Tell her IVe a plummy bit of news. 

CMrs. March laughs and exits l.c. Laurie walks 
up and down the room l., hands in pockets, 
singing ''How Can I Bear to Leave Theef 
Gases out of window l. zvith hands clasped bur- 
lesque lover style, sings to second line, when Jo 
enters — ^Laurie laughs.) 

Jo. (Enters r.i.e., carries her little old-fashioned 
writing box under her arm. Goes to front of table 
c.) What's your secret, Teddy? 

Laurie. (Comes c.) Well, I may get into a 
scrape for telling- it, and I never feel easy in my 
mind till Tve told you any plummy news I get. 

Jo. Out with it — is it nice? 

Laurie. Oh, it's spandy nice! 

Jo. Well, fire away then! 

Laurie. (In front of table c.) I know where 
Meg's glove is. 

Jo. (In front of table c— disappointed) Is that 

all? 

Laurie. It's quite enough for the present, as 
you'll agree when I tell you where. 

Jo. Tell then 

Laurie. (Bends down and whispers in Jo's ear) 
John Brooke has it. 

Jo. John Brooke has it— how do you know? 
(Breaks away to R.) 

Laurie. Saw it. 

Jo. Where? 

Laurie. Pocket. I asked him if he'd popped 
the question and he owned up he was afraid to. 
He's so poor and she's so young. Isn't it romantic? 

Jo. (Goes L.C.J No, it's horrid. 

Laurie. I thought you'd he pleased. 

Jo. At the thought of anyone coming to take 
Meg away ? No, thank you. 



50 LITTLE WOMEN 

Laurie. (Meaningly, sitting against c. table) 
You'll feel better about it when someone comes to 
take you away. 

Jo. Like to see anyone try it (With clenched 

fists.) 

Laurie, (c, chuckling) So should L 

Jo. (Rumpling her hair fretfully) Secrets don't 
agree with me, Teddy. I feel rumpled in my mind. 

Laurie. (Soothingly, goes to Jo, l.c. j Amy and 
I are going skating by-and-by. Come along and for- 
get your troubles. 

Jo. Can't — want to finish a story. (Goes to 
table, sits L. of it.) 

Laurie. Such ambition! Oh, come along with 
Amy and me. 

Jo. (Picking up her quill pen — snaps out) Go 
away, Teddy. Tm busy. 

Laurie. Ouch! AH right — (Starting toward 
hall door) — ^but this will be about the last day for 
the river. (Exits L.iJ 

('Jo, busy with her papers and evidently furious at 
what she has heard, jumps up from her chair, 
dashes her quill pen down on the table, throws 
a book violently to the floor. Enter Mrs. 
March unseen R.i.) 

Jo. Oh, I'm so cross — I wish I'd never been 
born. (Buries her head in her hands as she sits by 
table.) 

Mrs. March. (Goes over quietly, back of table, 
and taking the tumbled head in her arms, at back 
of ]o) Why, Jo, what is it? 

Jo. Oh, it's my dreadful temper, Marmee. I 
get so savage when I'm in a passion, I could hurt 
anyone and enjoy it. Oh, Mother, help me, help 
me ! (Arms around Marmee's waist) 



LITTLE WOMEN 51 

Mrs. March. Jo, dear, you think your temper is 
the worst in the world — (]o nods) — ^but mine's just 
like it. 

Jo. Yours,. Mother? Why, you're never angry. 

Mrs. March. My dear, I have been trying- to 
cure it for forty years and have only succeeded in 
controlling it. (Starts, picks up quill pen R.C.) I 
still have to learn not to feel it — (Smiling) — though 
that may take me another forty years. (Sits down, 
bringing chair forward a little, takes up work bas- 
ket, R. of table c.) What's the trouble? 

Jo. (Rising) I want to tell you something, 
Mother. 

Mrs. March. About Meg? 

Jo. How quickly you guessed. Although it's a 
little thing, it fidgets me. 

Mrs. March. Well, tell me all about it. 

Jo. (Flops down on the floor in front of table 
at her mother's feet) Well, Meg left a pair of 
gloves over at the Laurences' and only one was re- 
turned. We forgot all about it, till Teddy told me 
that Mr. Brooke has it. 

Mrs. March. (Quickly) How could Laurie 
know that ? 

Jo. Mr. Brooke kept it in his pocket, and once 
it fell out and Teddy joked him about it. Mr. 
Brooke owned that he liked Meg. Now, isn't that a 
dreadful state of things? 

Mrs. March. Do you think Meg cares for him? 

Jo. Mercy me! I don't know anything about 
love and such nonsense. In novels the girls show it 
by starting and blushing, fainting away, and acting 
like fools. Now Meg doesn't do anything of the 
sort; she eats and drinks and sleeps like a sensible 
creature. 

Mrs. March. Then you fancy that Meg is not 
interested in John? 

Jo. (Astonished) Who? 



52 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mrs. March. Mr. Brooke. (]o starts to rise 
with a groan) We fell into the way of calling him 
John at the hospital. 

Jo. (Rising to feet and striding up and down 
L.c.j Oh, dear, I know you'll take his part. He's 
been good to Father, so you'll let Meg marry him, if 
she wants to. O-o-oh, the mean thing! To go 
petting Papa just to wheedle you. (Kicks newel 
post.) 

Mrs. March. My dear, don't get angry. John 
was so devoted to poor Father, we couldn't help 
getting fond of him. 

Jo. But that's no reason why he should try to 
steal Meg. 

Mrs. March. He was perfectly open and honor- 
able about Meg. He told us he loved her and only 
asked the right to try to make her love him. 

Jo. (Still angry) In my opinion, he tried first 
and asked leave second. (Comes downstage a little, 
shaking her fist at window l.) Oh, I knew there 
was mischief brewing. I just wish I could marry 
Meg myself and keep her safe in the family. 

Mrs. March. (Smiling) Jo, say nothing to Meg 
about this, please. Perhaps she does not care for 
him. 

Jo. (^L.c.J Oh, I don't know. She likes brown 
eyes and doesn't think John an ugly name. (Gives 
a funny little nod of head) 

Mrs. March. (Smiling in spite of herself) Not 
very fatal symptoms, Jo. 

Jo. (Pathetically) Well, I feel it in the air, 
Marmee. They'll go lovering about the house and 
we shall have to dodge. (Goes up to desk l.> 

Mrs. March. My dear, John has his way to 
make in the world. He's in no position to marry 
now. 

Jo. Oh, he'll scratch up a fortune somewhere 
and carry her off and make a hole in the family, and 



LITTLE WOMEN 53 

I shall break my heart and be abominally uncom- 
fortable. (Comes down) Oh, dear me, why weren't 
we all boys? Then there wouldn't be any bother. 

("Mrs. March sighs — bus.) 

Jo. (Comes down to her— in front of table) 
You don't like it either, Mother. Let's send him 
about his business, and all be happy together as we 
always have been. 

Mrs. March. I did wrong to sigh, Jo. It is 
natural and right that you should all go to homes 
of your own in time, but I want to keep my girls 
with me as long as I can, and I am sorry this hap- 
pened so soon. 

Jo. So am I, and I'm disappointed about Meg, 
for I had planned to have her marry Teddy by-and- 
by, and sit in the lap of luxury all her days. 

Mrs. March. Money is a needful and precious 
thing, and many times a beautiful thing, but I'd 
rather see my girls poor men's wives if they were 
happy and contented, than queens on thrones with- 
out self-respect and peace. (Places hand over Jo's 
on table) Let time and their own hearts mate our 
friends, Jo. Don't make plans, lest they spoil our 
friendships. 

Jo. Well, I won't, but I hate to see things going 
all criss-cross and getting snarled up, when a pull 
here and a snip there would straighten it out.^ _ ("Mr. 
March enters, looks back into study, smiling to 
Beth, turns as he hears ''flatirons" and ''cats'' Jo 
picks up her book and quill pen she had thrown to 
floor.) I wish wearing flatirons on our heads would 
keep us from growing up. But buds will be roses, 
and kittens, cats, more's the pity. (Sits l. of table.) 
March. (Comes to r.c.) Beth has awakenea, 
Mother. What's that I hear about flatirons and 
cats, Jo? 



54 LITTLE WOMEN 

(Goes up to small table at fireplace and gets apple 
and knife. Mrs. March goes to door r.i J 

Jo. Only one of my stupid speeches, Father. 

Amy. (Comes downstairs, dressed for skating, 
skates over arm.) I'm going skating with Laurie, 
Marmee. We'll stop at the office, Father, for the 
mail. 

^ March goes down to chair r. of table c.) 

Mrs. March. (At study door,) Don't be late 
for dinner, Amy. 

Amy. (At door l.iJ No, Marmee. You know 
I am always "punctiluous." 

/March and Mrs. March look at each other and 
smile at Amy's attempt at big words. Exit 
Amy hall door l.i. Mrs. March study door 
R.I. Jo Tvipes quill on hair and dress.) 

March. (Smdles, sinking into large chair R. of 
table.) How goes the writing, my daughter ? (Peel- 
ing apple.) 

Jo. (Fingering the pen as she speaks) Oh, 
Father — sometimes I get discouraged, tear up pages 
and pages, and sometimes — (Laughing) — genius 
burns. I've been doing a lot of short stories and I 
wish I could sell some of 'em. I do want to make 
some money. 

March. (Stops peeling apple.) Money isn't the 
only thing in the world, my child. (Places his left 
hand on table towards Jo. j 

Jo. / know, Plato. (She reaches over and pats 
his hand.) 

March. (Smiles, starts peeling apple again) 
Is Aunt March as trying and amusing as ever ? 

Jo. (Laughing) She gets worse and worse ; and 
funnier and funnier. 



LITTLE WOMEN 55 

March. What is the latest wrinkle? (Laugh- 
Jo. Oh, nothing new— washing the poodle, hear- 
ing the parrot swear and reading Belsham's Essays. 
Father, when I think of the good times she might 
have and doesn't, I don't envy her with all her 

money. _ _ , ^ 

March. (Heartily) You are right, Jo; but 
you've Uncle March's library to browse in, that's 
some comfort. 

To. That reminds me. Father ; such an interest- 
ing man has been there— a Professor Fnederich 

Bhaer. . ^ , t^, 

March. (Animated) Oh, the Professor Bhaer 
who translated Shakespeare into German and is mak- 
ing an English translation of Schiller? (Puts apple 
peeling on small piece of paper on table.) 

Jo. I had no idea that my middle-aged professor 
was a celebrity. 

March. Neither is he. When his sister was 
dying he gave up his career and came over here to 
take care of his two little orphan nephews, whom he 
is educating in this country. 

To. Why doesn't he educate them in Germany? 

March. Their father was an American and it 
was their mother's last request that her sons be 
brought up as Americans. So Professor Bhaer 
adopted not only the boys, but their country, as his 
own. 

Jo. A fine, manly thing to do ! 

March. What is he like ? 

Jo. He isn't handsome, and while he was looking 
over the books, he was humming like a big bumble- 
bee. Rather stout, a bushy beard, a good nose, and 
the kindest eyes I ever saw. He looks like a gen- 
tleman, even if he has two buttons off his coat and 
a patch on one shoe. 



56 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mr. Laurence. (Enters L.i.j Good morning, 
sir. 

(]o rises, meets him, takes his hat and pwts it oH 
chair below desk l. ; goes back and places chair 
L. of table c. for Laurence J 

March. (Rising) Good morning, Mr. Lau- 
rence. 

Laurence. And how are you feeling to-day? 

March. (Smiles, taking paper with apple peel- 
ing and goes to fireplace.) Improving steadily, 
thank you. Home was what I needed. (Throws 
peeling into fireplace.) 

Mr. Laurence. (Sits,) And my little friend 
Beth? 

^Jo sits hack of table c.) 

March. (Coming back.) She is better this 
morning (Pauses r.c), though she seems very frail. 
But I am sure she will gain with the coming of the 
Spring. (Coming back to chair R. of table, sits, eat- 
ing apple.) 

Mr. Laurence. Miss Jo, have you seen that 
harum-scarum grandson of mine? What mischief 
is he up to now ? 

Jo. He's out skating with Amy, sir. Don't 
worry about Teddy, Mr. Laurence; he'll turn out 
all right. 

Mr. Laurence. Well, he ought to, after all the 
kindness you show him over here. 

Jo. (Quaintly) Well, Marmee has always told 
us: Cast your bread upon the waters, and after 
many days it will come back — Buttered! ^All 
laugh) 

Mr. Laurence. (Smiling) Don't spoil the lad. 



LITTLE WOMEN 57 

(Rises. Enter Beth, Mrs. March and Meg. 
Beth thin and pale, showing that she has been 
ill Bus. of settling her comfortably on settee. 
Meg comes in first, Beth second, Mrs. March 
third Meg and Mrs. March carry an extra 
pillow and afghan for Beth to help make her 
comfortable. Mrs. March goes up to settee, 
fixing shawl, etc., for Beth.j 

Meg. Mr. Laurence, you see that Beth comes 
with a royal retinue. (Goes to settee at fireplace, 
helping Mrs. March fix same.) 

Mr. Laurence. (Goes to Beth r.c.j As she 
should, our little household queen. 

Beth. (Holds out her hand, Mr. Laurence 
kisses if— Beth smUes up at him as he bends over 
her) How sunny the days are growing. 

(]o goes to desk l. carrying her writing box Meg 
gets picture book out of closet under mche for 
Beth Beth has bright varns — and a big spool 
with pins making yarn reins which will event- 
ually be coiled into a lamp mat.) 

Mr. Laurence. We must soon get you out 
into the sunshine, my child. There is health and 

vigor in this air. , . .r -o ^t, 

Mrs. March. Sit here, Mr. Laurence. Beth 

always looks forward to her mornmg visit with you, 

sir. (Goes back to table) _, , ,, . 

Mr. Laurence. (Sitting.) Thank you, Madam. 

(^Laurence sits l. of Beth on settee by fireplace, 
talking to her inaudibly, showing her picture 
book. Mrs. March pats Mr. March's head 
tenderly and then sits back of table c. and be- 
gins sewing. Mr. March sits quietly, his head 
back, eyes closed, as if resting.) 



58 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg. (Goes up to window c, stands looking 
out.) Here come Amy and Laurie racing along 
like two children. They are getting too old for such 
frolics. (Goes to desk l.) 

Jo. (Sitting in chair at desk l. — sadly) Don't 
try to make them grow up before their time, Meg. 
It's hard enough to have you change, all of a sudden. 

(Enter Laurie and Amy, both laughing outside as 
they come running up, skates over arms.) 

Laurie. (Waving a newspaper jubilantly) Hur- 
rah ! Hurrah ! Here's a plummy bit of news, and 
the real sensation of the season. (Goes to c. up- 
stage, hack of table a little L.J 

All. Oh, what is it ? 

Laurie. (Waving paper triumphantly) We've 
a genius in the March family. 

fBETH and Mr. Laurence rise and drop down R.c. 
Mr. Laurence sits on Beth's little stool, takes 
Beth on his knee.) 

Meg. (Comes l.c. j I'm sure it's dear old Jo. 

Laurie, (c. of table c, still waving paper) Be 
it known by these present that this paper 

Jo. (Goes to Laurie, trying to take paper from 
him) The Spread Eagle. Oh, Teddy — it isn't — 
it isn't 

(^Meg drops down to Amy l.) 

Laurie, (c.) It very much is, thank you, a 
story with a pleasing illustration of a lunatic, a 
corpse, a villain and a viper. And your name at 
the bottom, Miss Josephine March. Hurrah for the 
Spread Eagle and the celebrated American author- 
ess. 



LITTLE WOMEN 59 

(Gives Jo the paper, tossing his skating cap in the 
air, goes up stage.) 

Jo. Marmee — Marmee — my story's printed- 



(Sits in chair l. of table, putting paper over face 
and rocking hack and forth) 

Laurie. Isn't it fine to see it all in print, and 
aren't we proud? (Goes h.) 

March. Let me see, my daughter. 

(^Jo hands him the paper, which he reads, putting 
on spectacles.) 

Beth. (Holding out her hand, Jo goes over to 
her chair and takes it tenderly) I knew it — I knew 
it — oh, my Jo, I am so proud ! 

Amy. (l. Dancing about excitedly) Tell us all 
about it. Did Father know or Mother? 

Meg. ("l.c.J How did you ever dare try? 

Amy. How much did you get for it? 

Jo. (Coming R.c.j Stop jabbering, girls, and 
I'll tell you all about it. To begin with, Laurie had 
read my stuff and he said 

Laurie. (Down l. cor., interrupting — Meg amd 
Amy turn to each one as Jo and Laurie interrupt 
each other) I said her stories were works of Shake- 
speare compared to most of the rubbish that is pub- 
lished every day. 

Jo. So I gave him three stories to take to a pub- 
lisher he knows, and 

Laurie. (Again interrupting) This is the re- 
sult. Two stories accepted, and the third also, if you 
will cut out the moral. 

Mr. and Mrs. March. Oh, Laurie! 

Laurie. People don't want to be preached at; 
morals don't pay nowadays and here's a check for 
$50. (Goes to Jo in front of table c, takes check 



6o LITTLE WOMEN 

from pocket and hands it to her. Meg and Amy 
down L.j 

Jo. (In front of table c, grabbing check and 
staring at it as if she doubted her eyes) $50 — ha, 
ha — and I can write reams of 'em! I can't 
do much with my hands, but I'll make a battering 
ram of my head and beat a living out of this topsy- 
turvy world! (Turns around to Mrs. March — 
tears as Mrs. March kisses her, back of table c.) 

March. (Indicating story) It is good, my 
daughter, but you can do better than this. "Hitch 
your wagon to a star," remember, and never mind 
the money. 

Amy. (Down L.j I think the money is the 
nicest part of it. Fancy earning $50 all by your- 
self. What ever will you do with such a fortune? 

Jo. (l, of table c.) Send Beth and Mother to the 
seashore. 

Beth. (Clapping her hands) Oh, how splen- 
did ! Jo, I can't do it, dear ; it would be so selfish ! 

Jo. Oh, but you shall go. I've set my heart on 
it. That is what I tried for and why I succeeded. 
I never get on when I think of myself alone, so it 
will help me to work for you, don't you see? 

Meg. Marmee needs to go after nursing two 
invalids, and she won't leave without you, Beth. 

Mrs. March. (Goes to Beth r.) Beth, dear, 
let Jo spend her first $50 in her own way. 

Beth. It's such a beautiful way. Just like my 
Jo! 

Mrs. March. We all want to hear Jo's story, I 
know. Father, are you too tired to read it aloud? 
(Goes R.C.J 

March. (Rises.) I never have a chance to get 
tired, with such devoted nurses. (Taking them all 
in — goes R.) Suppose we go to the study, where 
the light is better? 



LITTLE WOMEN 6i 

(Exits into study r.l. Beth and Mrs. March exit 
after him. Amy takes skates and hood up to 
closet. Mr. Laurence goes to Jo, c, offering 
hand.) 

Mr. Laurence. My sincerest congratulations, 
Miss Jo. 

Jo. Thank you, sir. (Shakes hands with a slap 
and a grip which Mr. Laurence registers comically) 

Mr. Laurence. (Goes to r.i.e., hows grandly to 
Amyj You first, my lady. 

f Amy exits r.i. — Laurence follows. All heard 
talking in library a few seconds — ''Sit down 
here, Mr. Laurence/' etc., until the door 
closes.) 

Laurie. (Goes l. to door) I must run across 
with these letters for old Brooke. Oh, Meg, have 
you seen him since he came home? (Teasingly.) 

Meg. (Above desk l. with dignity, while Jo 
shakes her head at Lauriej Certainly. He comes 
to see Father and Mother every day. 

Laurie. (Laughing and refusing to catch Jo's 
eye) Such devotion — to Father and Mother! 

(Exits l. As the door slams, Meg walks to win- 
dow L. and looks out.) 

Jo. (Gazing at the check, smiling happily, to her- 
self as much as to MegJ Why, I can go on spin- 
ning yarns like a spider — and perhaps take care of 
them all. 

(Laugh from Meg makes her look at her; Jo front 
of table.) 

Meg. Jo, what is Laurie doing there out in the 
snow ? See, he's on one knee, with his hands clasped 
looking at me. Now he's pretending to wring tears 



62 LITTLE WOMEN 

out of his handkerchief. (Laughing) What does 
the goose mean ? 

Jo. (Scornfully) He's showing you how your 
John will go on by-and-by. Touching, isn't it? 

Meg. (Comes down to ]o.) Don't say "my 
John," it isn't proper or true. Please don't plague 
me, Jo. I've told you I don't care much for him, so 
let us all be friendly and go on as before. (Goes 
to desk and takes up sewing) 

Jo. Well, I wish it was settled. I hate to wait, 
so if you ever intend to do it, make haste and have 
it over quickly. 

Meg. I can't say or do anything till he speaks, 
and he won't, because Father says I am too young. 

Jo. If he did speak, you wouldn't know what 
to say. 

Meg. I'm not so silly and weak as you think ! I 
know just what I'd say — for I've planned it all. 

Jo. (Leaning against table l. side) You've 
planned it? 

Meg. Well, there's no telling what may happen 
and I wish to be prepared. 

Jo. (Smiling sarcastically) Would you mind 
telling me what you'd say? 

Meg. Not at all. You are quite old enough to 
be my confidante, and my experience will be useful 
to you by-and-by, in your own affairs of this 
sort. 

Jo. (Facing front) Don't mean to have any. 
It's fun to watch other people philander, but I should 
feel like a fool doing it myself. 

Meg. (Dropping her work and looking dreanu- 
ily out of window) I think not, if you liked him 
very much — and he liked you. 

Jo. Humph! I'd rather be an old maid and 
paddle my own canoe. (Bluntly, turning to Meg^ 
Well, I thought you -were going to tell me your 
speech to that man. 



LITTLE WOMEN 63 

Meg. Oh, I should merely say, quite calmly and 
decidedly—- — (Puts down sewing, folds hands in 
lap — feet together — sits very primly) "Thank you, 
Mr. Brooke, you are very kind, but I agree with 
father that I am too young- to enter into any en- 
gagement at present. So please say no more, but 
let us be friends, as we were." (Settles herself and 
looks at ]o.) 

Jo. (Looks at Megj Hum! That's stiff and 
cool enough. I don't believe you'll ever say it — 
and if he goes on like the rejected lovers in books, 
you'll give in. 

Meg. (Rises, goes up to foot of stairs) No, I 
won't. I shall tell him I've made up my mind, and 
shall walk out of the room with dignity. (Walks as 
if rehearsing her dignified exit — as she gets to foot 
of stairs. Knock is heard in the hall) 

Brooke. (In hall) Anybody home ? 

('Meg flies hack to her seat at desk l. with a little 
cry and begins sewing violently.) 

Jo. (Laughs sarcastically) Ha, ha! (Goes, 
jerks open door and stands in doorway, stopping 
Brookej 

Brooke. (Enters, startled by the suddenness, 
raises his hat, looks confused) Good morning, I 
came to get my — (Pause) — umbrella. That is, to 
see how your Father finds himself to-day? 

Jo. (Very sarcastic) It's very well, he's in the 
rack — I'll get him and tell it you are here. 

(Dashes upstairs — stamping. Brooke closes door 
and goes r.c., doesn't see Meg.J 

Meg. Mother will like to see you. Pray sit 
down. I'll call her. (Goes toward r.) 



64 LITTLE WOMEN 

Brooke. Don't go. Are you afraid of me, Mar- 
garet? (Stopping her R.c.j 

Meg. (Putting out her hand confidingly at end 
of speech) How can I be afraid when you have 
been so kind to father? I only wish I could thank 
you for it. 

Brooke. (Taking her hand in both of his) Shall 
I tell you how ? 

Meg. (Trying to withdraw her hand, turning 
her head away) Oh, no, please don't — I'd rather 
not. 

Brooke. I only want to know if you care for 
me a little, Meg. ^ I love you so much, dear. 

Meg. (Hanging her head and speaking abruptly, 
almost in tears) I — I don't know. 

Brooke. Will you try to find out? I want to 
know so much, for I can't go to work with any heart 
until I know whether I am to have my reward or 
not. 

Meg. (Falteringly) I'm — I'm too young. 

Brooke. I'll wait. And in the meantime, you 
could be learning to like me. Would it be a very 
hard lesson, dear? 

Meg. Not if I choose to learn. 

Brooke. Please choose to learn. I love to teach 
and this is easier than Italian. 

Meg. (Looking up, sees that he is smiling — 
draws away her hand, petulantly) I don't choose. 
Please go away and let me be. (Goes to desk) 

Brooke. (Following her anxiously as she ivalks 
away) Do you really mean that? 

Meg. Yes, I do. I don't want to be worried 
about such things. Father says I needn't. It's too 
soon and I'd rather not ! 

Brooke. May I hope you'll change your mind 
by-and-by ? 

Aunt March. (Heard thumping her cane in 
hall) Anybody home? Where is everybody? 



LITTLE WOMEN 65 

(Cane thumping. Meg rushes Brooke off into din- 
ing room; Brooke grabbing up his hat by centre 
table as he goes. Aunt March enters l.i., stops 
L.c. in time, to see Brooke disappearing — Meg looks 
confused and conscious) Bless me, what's all this? 
{Rapping her cane and glaring fiercely at Meg and 
at dining-room door) 

Meg. It's father's friend. I'm so surprised to 
see you. (Fixes chair l. of table for Aunt March j 

Aunt March. (Grimly) That's evident. 
What's father's friend been saying to make you look 
like a "Piny"? (Starts to cross) There's mis- 
chief going- on here and I insist upon knowing what 
it is. (Goes to chair r. of table and sits — another 
tap of cane) 

Meg. fL. of table) We were merely talking. 
Mr. Brooke came for — for his umbrella. 

Aunt March. Brooke? That boys' tutor ? Ah, 
I understand now. You haven't gone and accepted 
liim, child? 

Meg. Hush, he'll hear! Sha'n't I call Mother? 

Aunt March. Not yet. Tell me, do you mean 
to marry this Cook? 

Meg. Brooke. 

Aunt March. If you do, not one penny of my 
money goes to you. Remember that. 

Meg. (Standing l. of table, and facing the old 
lady, speaking zvith unwonted spirit) I shall marry 
whom I please. Aunt March, and you can leave 
your money to anyone you like. 

Aunt March. (Tapping her cane and facing 
front) Hoighty-toity ! (^Laurie enters, unseen by 
either Meg or Aunt March, sees there is trouble, 
goes up the stairs in about two or three bounds, turns 
at door and gives mock bom — exits) Is that the 
way you take my advice, Miss ? You'll be sorry for 
it by and by, when you've tried love in a cottage and 
found it a failure. 



66 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg. (Still ruffled) It can't be worse than some 
people find it in big houses. 

Aunt March. (Putting on her glasses and tak- 
ing a long look at Meg before she speaks) Now„ 
Meg, my dear, be reasonable and take my advice. 
I don't want you to spoil your whole life by makings 
a mistake in the beginning. You ought to marry^ 
well and help your family. It's your duty to make 
a rich match, and it ought to be impressed upon 
you. 

Meg. Father and Mother don't think so. They 
like John, though he is poor. 

Aunt March. Your parents, my dear, have no 
more worldly wisdom than two babies. 

Meg. I'm glad of it. 

(FLASH ORCHJ 

Aunt March. This Crooke 

Meg. Brooke ! 

Aunt March. Is poor, and hasn't got any rich 
relatives, has he ? 

Meg. No, but he has many warm friends. 

Aunt March. (Snappishly) You can't live on 
them. Try it, and see how cool they'll grow. He 
hasn't any business, has he ? 

Meg. Not yet, but Mr. Laurence is going to help 
him. 

Aunt March. Huh, that won't last long. So 
you intend to marry a man without money, position 
or business, and go on working harder than you do 
now, when you might be comfortable all your days 
by minding me and doing better. I thought you had 
more sense, Meg. 

(WARN) 

Meg. (Realising by this time how much she 
loves Brookej I couldn't do better if I waited 
half my life. John is good and wise. He has 



LITTLE WOMEN 67 

lieaps of talent, — he's willing to work and sure to 
get on, he's so energetic and brave. And I'm 
proud to think he cares for me, though I am young 
and silly. 

Aunt March. He knows you've got rich rela- 
tions, child. 

Meg. (Stamping her foot and speaking rapidly 
in her anger) Aunt March, how dare you say such 
a thing? John is above such meanness, and I won't 
listen to you a minute if you talk so. My John 
wouldn't marry for money any more than I would. 
I'm not afraid of being poor, for I've been happy 
so far, and I know I shall be with him, because he 
loves me and I — I 

Aunt March. (Rising and going tozvard door 
x.i.j Well, I wash my hands of the whole affair. 
You are a wilful child and you have lost more than 

you know by this piece of folly (Movement 

of Meg toward her) No, I won't stop! I'm dis- 
appointed in you and haven't spirit to see your father 
now. Don't expect anything from me when you're 
married. Your Mr. Crooke's friends must take care 
oi you. I'm done with you forever. 

{She exits, slamming door behind her. Meg goes 
upstage by zvindow, almost ready to cry) 

Brooke. (Enters, crosses to her) I couldn't 
lielp hearing, Meg. Thank you for defending me. 
and Aunt March for proving that you do care for 
me a little bit. 

Meg. I didn't know how much till she abused 
you. 

Brooke. Then I needn't go away ; but stay and 
be happy, dear? 

Meg. (Hiding face on Brooke's shoulder) Yes, 
John. 



68 LITTLE' WOMEN 

(He raises her face, kisses her. She gasps, laughs 
and ducks under his arm and they sit together 
on seat under stairway. Jo appears on stair- 
case with Laurie in her train — they peek and 
listen.) 

Jo. There ! she has had it out with Aunt March^ 
and has sent Brooke away. 

/Laurie sees Meg and Brooke, gleefully points to 
them, calling Jo's attention. Jo gasps and comes 
downstairs flying. Brooke looks up, he and 
Meg rise.) 

Brooke. Sister Jo, congratulate us! (Takes 
Meg in his arms again and kisses her) 

Jo. (Gives funny little gasp, rushes to study 
door, throws it open and calls out) Father — Mother 
— somebody — come quick! John Brooke is actino^ 
dreadfully — and Meg likes it! 

^Laurie stands on the stairs laughing and holding 
on to his sides — Meg and Brooke are together 
down L. — Jo just turning from study door—^ 
others begin to appear as the 

CURTAIN 



^(Curtain right up quick for second curtain. Music — 
"Haste to the Wedding" — played very quick 
and forte for all curtains.) 

(SECOND PICTURE: Family all on^]o right of 
c, gasps as John kisses her; tries to rub it off 
and dashes out of door l. as family laughs 
Laurie, seeing, is convulsed, and slides down- 
stairs.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 69 

(THIRD PICTURE:— Company.) 

(FOURTH CURTAIN: Entire company crosses 
stage from l.i. to r.t. in character with charac- 
teristic how to audience in the c.) 

1st. Hannah 

2nd. Mr. Laurence 

3rd. Mr. and Mrs. March 

4th. Beth 

5th. Amy 

6th. Laurie 

7th. Aunt March 

8th. Meg and Brooke 

9th. Jo. 

END OF SCENE ONE 
2 minute wait. 

SCENE TWO 

Scene : Same as Scene One, 

Time: Six months later. September, 1864. ^^^^ 

afternoon. 
Music : Curtain up on "Lorelei." 

Lights open with Light Amber. Medium curtain. 

Discovered: Jo writing l. of table c, ink blot on 
nose. She is enveloped in a big black apron 
and wears a black cap with a flaming red bow 
on top. Jo, in fits of abstraction, wipes her quill 
pen upon one or the other, and jabs it almost 
viciously in the ink. Evidently "Genius is burn- 
ing," and she is absorbed in her work. 



70 LITTLE WOMEN 

Meg sits sewing r. of table. She is listening to 
March's voice as he reads aloud in the study 

R.I. 

March. (Off) "The fat boy pointed to the des- 
tination of the pies. *Wery good,' said Sam, *stick 
a bit o' Christmas in 'em. There now, we look com- 
pact and com/ortable, as the father said when he cut 
his Httle boy's head off to cure him o' squintin'.' " 

(Amid a burst of laughter which follows, Hannah 
enters from dining room and goes to Meg.j 

Hannah. Miss Meg, come quick ! Miss Amy's 
hoppin' around the woodshed with her foot in some 
white stuff — and she can't git it out. 

Amy. (Comes hopping on from dining room 
with the pan on her right foot, crying) I can't get 
it out — (Ad lib. Comes to r.c. Jo looks up and 
roars, then goes on with her writing) 

Meg. (Rises and puts down her work impa- 
tiently) Oh, dear. Amy, I do wish you would leave 
plaster modeling alone. 

Hannah. Well, she's crazy about them chiny 
figgers she calls stattys. ("Hannah, Meg and Amy 
exit into dining room her bare leg and the pan stuck 
out behind — as she hops off R. 3, ad lib outside) I 
can't pull her foot out of the pan ! 

Meg. Well, try now, Hannah! 

('Amy screams. Jo, who has evidently reached the 
end of her inspiration, rises and stretches her- 
self, casting aside apron and cap on desk l., 
stretches arms over her head; as she yawns and 
shakes herself, enter March and Beth from 
study; March zvith book under his arm; Beth 
with a little basket in her hand.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 71 

Jo. What — no more Pickwick? 

March. (Laying book on mantel at fireplace, 
with his back to fire, takes off spectacles and begins 
cleaning them with handkerchief) Not for the pres- 
ent. I'm read out. 

Beth. (Goes to Jo, up l. near desk) Jo, don't 
you want to help me cut the sunflowers ? We need 
the seeds to feed Aunt Cockletop and her family of 
chicks. 

CMrs. March comes down the stairs. She is wear- 
ing a little knitted shawl over her shoulders, 
which she takes off and puts on Beth.j 

Jo. I'll be glad of the exercise and — (Laughing) 
the chance to cool my fevered brain. (Takes off 
net and shakes down her hair, which falls loosely 
about her shoulders) Besides, I've got to wait and 
fill up my idea box again. 

Mrs. March. (The two girls exit, laughing, hall 
door. Mrs, March takes her work basket from 
c. table and goes over to March, sitting on settee 
at fireplace) Father, I am worried about Amy and 
Laurie and Jo. 

March. Worried? You don't think that 
Amy ? 

Mrs. March. Mother's eyes are keen, dear, and 
there is no question in my mind that Amy cares for 
Laurie in quite another way than he does for her. 
He loves her, of course, but it's entirely the big 
brother attitude. 

March. And Jo? 

Mrs. March. I've sometimes feared Jo's heart 
would never be touched with a real romance. 

March. (Thoughtfully) With her, brain is de- 
veloping before heart. 

Mrs. March. (Smiling) Yes ; she prefers imag- 
inary heroes to real ones, says that when she gets 



^2 LITTLE WOMEN 

tired of them she can lock them up in the old tin 
kitchen where she keeps her manuscripts. And 
yet 

March. And yet (Sits on settee R. of Mrs. 

March, putting arm around her) What else have 
those keen, motherly eyes discovered? 

Mrs. March. Do you remember how interested 
Jo was in that elderly Professor? 

March. (Looks surprised) Professor Bhaer? 

Mrs. March. Well, since she's been teaching 
Mrs. Kirk's children, she has seen him again. He 
rooms at the Kirks ; he's teaching her German, and 
she sews on his buttons and darns his socks. 

March. (Smiling and shaking his head in a 
deprecating way, as he taps his wife's cheek gently) 
You dear, foolish mother. I shouldn't call darning 
socks a love symptom. (Rises) 

Meg. (Enters downstairs, dressed for walking) 
I'm going down to the office to walk up with John, 
Mother. 

Mrs. March. Very well, dear; bring John back 
to tea. 

Meg. (Goes to hall door l.t. j Thanks, Marmee. 

(Curtseys and exits l.i.^ 

Jo. (Coming in from dining room, her hair tidy 
again, carrying letter, absorbed and pleased, comes 
to R.c, suddenly becomes aware of presence of 
father and mother and gives an embarrassed look) 
Ha — ha — Marmee, you said I might ask my pro- 
fessor to call and he's coming this afternoon. 

^Mr. and Mrs. March exchange a meaning look, 
which Jo does not see — being upstage and back 
of table to chair l. Bus. of tucking letter into 
dress, taking apron and cap from chair and 
throwing them in closet on floor. March shakes 



LITTLE WOMEN 73 

his head, and, chuckling to himself, disappears 
into the study R.i. Jo fixes the how at her neck, 
comes down to chair l. of table c. and takes up 
her pen.) 

Mrs. March. (Takes up her sewing) You seem 
very much interested in the professor, Jo. 

Jo. Well, he advised me to study simple, true 
characters, so I proceeded to study him. I find him 
a great puzzle. He's not fascinating or brilliant, 
and yet people gather about him as naturally as 
about a genial fire. He's poor, yet he always appears 
to be giving something away. He's a stranger, yet 
everyone's his friend. He's plain and peculiar and 
I've been trying to discover his charm and I've fi- 
nally decided that it's a benevolence that has worked 
the miracle. (With a funny little laugh) Why, 
Mother, his very boots are benevolent. 

Amy. (Enters, wearing Meg's dress of Act 
One made over) Marmee, may I wear your little 
pearl pin to the dance to-night? (Bus. of scratch- 
ing left ankle with right foot) 

Mrs. March. Surely, dear, it is simple enough 
to be quite appropriate for my little girl. 

Jo. Where are you going, Amy? 

Amy. Aunt Curtis has asked me to dine there 
to-night, and she will take Flo and me to Mamie 
Gardner's dance. 

Mrs. March. What are you going to wear, 
dear ? 

Amy. I've covered Flo's old white silk with tarle- 
tan, and I shall loop it with rosebuds. 

Jo. (Disapprovingly) Don't see why you want 
to go to parties. Amy, and truckle to a parcel of girls 
who don't care a sixpence for you, just because they 
wear French heels and ride in coupes. 

Amy. (Indignantly) I don't truckle, and I hate 
being patronized as much as you do, but I like peo- 



74 LITTLE WOMEN 

pie and mean to make the most of every chance I 
get. 

Jo. Humph! I like luxury, but I prefer inde- 
pendence. 

Amy. (Ruffled at Jo's insinuation) Well, you 
can go through the world with your elbows out and 
your nose in the air and call it independence, if you 
like. It's not my way. 

Mrs. March. (Mildly) Don't squabble, chil- 
dren. f'AMY turns to hay window) Amy — Amy — 
(On second "Amy" — ^Amy comes down stage, smil- 
ing) I think you turned Meg's old hat into a really 
charming creation. 

Jo. Meg's old hat? Isn't it a new one? 

Amy. (Triumphantly) Not at all. It's her old 
one. I painted it with water colors, and her boots 
to match. 

Jo. (Ashamed of her recent temper, and ready 
to make amends) Amy, it certainly is a great com- 
fort to have an "artistic" sister. (Amy, mollified, 
goes up to window c, takes up drawing hoard) 

/Meg and Brooke laugh outside, then enter, look- 
ing radiant. Brooke places hat on chair helozv 
desk L. ; Meg places hat and scarf on seat under 
stairway.) 

Mrs. March. Well, John? 

Brooke. Meg and I have been house-hunting. 

f Jo glares at him.) 

Mrs. March. Isn't it a little soon, John, when 
the wedding date isn't fixed? 

Meg. (Goes to r. of c. at hack) We've found 
such a dear little cottage, Mother — ^the Dove Cote, 
John calls it. 



LITTLE WOMEN 75 

Jo. Mush! (Disgusted, jams elbows on table 
and her chin in her hands) 

Meg. Will you ^o with us to see it to-morrow? 

Mrs. March. Why, of course I will. John, will 
you stay to tea ? (Rises) 

Brooke. (Looks at Jo, half-afraid — she glares 
at him) Only too glad of the chance, ma'am. 

^Mrs. March exits to dining room.) 

Meg. (Sits on settee l. side at fireplace with a 
skein of worsted, which she holds out to Brooke j 
John, won't you hold this for me, please? 

('Brooke, without a word, goes to table c, to se'a^ 
himself at fireplace r. ; he and Meg become ab- 
sorbed in each other. Jo, who has taken up a 
hook, looks over at them — Amy, sitting at back 
of table c, begins sketching them and nudges 
Jo to make her look at the lovers.) 

Jo. I hate lovering-. (Sounds of a gay whistle 
outside, she gives a sigh of satisfaction) Toodles is 
coming! Now, perhaps, we shall have some sen- 
sible conversation. 

Amy. 1 wish you wouldn't call Laurie Toodles, 
Jo. It isn't dignified. 

(Enter Laurie, carrying brown parcel; goes over 
to Meg as soon as he spies her and presents it 
with sweeping bow.) 

Jo. Teddy ! 

CLaurie .ignores ]o.) 

Laurie. For Mrs. John Brooke I (Places parcel 
in her lap) 



76 LITTLE WOMEN 
Meg. Oh, Laurie 



Laurie. With the maker's compliments and con- 
gratulations. Any time, when John is away and 
you get frightened, Mrs. Meg — (Takes rattle which 
Meg has undone) — just swing this out of the front 
window, and it will rouse the neighborhood in a 
jiffy. (It is a mammoth rattle, and, as Laurie fin- 
ishes, he takes it from Meg and gives a sample of 
its power, that makes them cover their ears — then 
he hands the rattle hack to Meg, who laughs so that 
she cannot thank him. He falls into an attitude of 
mock devotion before AmyJ Amy, you are getting 
altogether too handsome for a single lady. I shall 
warn grandpa. 

(Goes to Amy at hack of table c) 

Amy. (Nettled) Don't be absurd, Laurie. Will 
you ever grow up ? 

Laurie. Fm doing my best, ma'am — ^but six feet 
is about all a man can do in these degenerate days. 
(Looks over at Brooke and Meg, who are again 
absorbed) Oh, gaze upon the happy lovers ! 

Amy. Aren't they radiant ? I want to paint Meg 
in her wedding gown, the first bride in the March 
family. 

/Jo, evidently disgusted at the talk about lovers, 
grabs up her uniting desk and goes to desk L., 
slamming small writing case down on desk L. 
sits.) 

Laurie. Old Brooke has asked me to the wed- 
ding, and I accepted on the spot. Told him I'd come 
if I were at the end of the earth, for the sight of 
Jo's face on that occasion would be worth a long 
journey. 

Amy. (Has risen as he spoke — puts drawing 
hoard on small table at back, starts to go upstairs) 



LITTLE WOMEN 'jj 

Yes, wouldn't it? I must dress or I shall be late, 
(Exits) 

Laurie. (At newel post l._, evidently in teasing 
mood — looks at Meg and John, then goes over to 
]o) You don't look festive, ma'am, what's the 
matter? 

Jo. I don't approve of the match. You can't 
know how hard it is for me to give up Meg. 

Laurie. (Going to her consolingly) You don't 
give her up. You only go halves. 

Jo. I've lost my dearest friend. 

Laurie. You've got me, anyhow, and I'll stand 
hy you, Jo, all the days of my life. (Holds out 
hand) 

Jo. (Shaking hands with him) I know you will. 
You're always such a comfort to me, Teddy. 

Laurie. Well, now, don't be dismal, there's a 
good fellow. It'll be very jolly to see Mrs. Meg in 
her own little home; but, oh, I say, Jo, that little 
Parker is getting desperate about Amy. 

Jo. (Aghast) About Amy? 

Laurie. Yes. He writes poetry about her and 
all that sort of thing. We'd better nip his little pas- 
sion in the bud, hadn't we ? 

Jo. (Startled) Of course we had. The idea ! 
We don't want any more marrying in this family 
for years to come. Mercy on us, what are the chil- 
dren thinking about? 

Laurie. (Chuckling) It's a fast age, and I don't 
know what we are coming to, ma'am. You're a mere 
infant, but you'll go next, Jo. 

Jo. Don't be alarmed. There should always be 
one old maid in the family — and I'm it! (^Laurie 
laughs — Jo's tone changes) I think it's dreadful to 

break up families so (Bell rings and Jo starts 

for L. door, consciously) Let's change the subject* 

Laurie. (Meaningly) You'll go next. 



y2> LITTLE WOMEN 

f Meg and John, hearing hell, quietly exit to study, 
bus. — Meg dragging him off 'with yarn. Enter 
Hannah, starts to answer door.) 

Jo. (With hand on the knob, turns to Hannah j 
I'll open the door, Hannah. Please tell father and 
mother that the Professor is here. 

Hannah. (Turning to exit to dining room, sees 
Mrs. March entering from dining room, goes into 
dining room, speaking as she goes) Someone to see 
Miss Jo, ma'am. 

(A moment later March, smiling, steps softly out 
of study, as if leaving field free for the lovers — 
Mr. and Mrs. March r.c. Laurie is up stage 
a little L.c. j 

Jo. (Outside) Oh, Mr. Bhaer, I am so glad to 
see you. 

Bhaer. (Outside) And I to see you, Mees 

Marsche (They reach the doorway together, 

Jo leading the way) But no, you haf a party ? 

(]o enters first, takes Professor's silk hat and puts 
it on chair l. ; Bhaer stops just inside room as 
he sees others.) 

Jo. No, we haven't — only the family. Come in 
and make one of us. 

(Ready electrician to light small piece of paper in 
fireplace.) 

Bhaer. If I should not be Monsieur De Trop, 
I will gladly see them all. 

Jo. Father — Mother — ^this is my friend, Profes- 
sor Bhaer. 



LITTLE WOMEN 79 

('Bhaer goes c. — Mrs. March goes to him, greets 
and shakes hands with him; th^n March goes, 
same bus, Mr. March and Mrs. March stand 
L. and 1^. of table c. Cordial greeting from all 
but Laurie, who stands aloof. Jo, noting this, 
turns to him.) 

Bhaer. I am glad to meet you. (Turning to 
Jo, L.J This is your friend of whom you speak? 

Jo. Yes, my boy Teddy. I'm very proud of him. 

Laurie, (l.) Oh, come now, Jo, don't speak 
as if I were a lap-dog or Beth's kitten. (Evidently 
trying to put aside his annoyance, turns toward 
Bhaer, with his usual charming manner) I'm glad 
to meet you. Professor Bhaer. Please remember 
there's always a welcome for you over the way. 
(Indicating the Laurence home with a gesture of 
his head toward the window.) 

(READY LIGHTS.) 

Bhaer. T'ank you, sir. It will gif me pleasure 
to come. 

Brooke. (Calling from study) Laurie, come 
here a minute, will you ? 

(Excusing himself, Laurie exits to study r.i.e.J 

March. (Placing chair R. of table c.) Won't 
you sit down ? 

Mrs. March. (Going to sofa at fireplace and 
picking up rattle and arranging sofa) No — here, 
Professor. 

('Bhaer sits on sofa and Mrs. March on stool at 
lower end of fireplace.) 

March. My daughter is much interested in. 
your German translations of Shakespeare, sir. 



8o LITTLE WOMEN 

(Sitting in chair r. of c. table, which he placed up 
stage a bit — Jo sits l. of table c.) 

Bhaer. Is it so? Mees Marsche, she say often 
she wish a Hbrary. I tell her to read him well and 
he will help her much ; for the study of character 
will aid her to read it in the world and paint it with 
her pen. I want my people to know him as I know 
him, so — (Hesitates, then in German) — Ich Ver- 
suchte. I make try to put him into the German 
tong-ue. 

March. (Much interested) It's like trying to 
put Schiller into Eng-lish, I fancy, and quite as dif- 
ficult. 

Bhaer. (Hesitates, trying to think of English) 
Herr Marsche, that reminds me, Mees Marsche, she 
tell me how you luf my Schiller, and so — ich war 
so frei — so I make so bold as to bring my copy for 
you to see. (Takes book from pocket; done tip in 
one of the old-fashioned, luridly illustrated papers 
---''The Spread Eagle/" or ''Fireside Companion," 
in black and white, not comic supplement, as they 
were not in existence at the time. At sight of the 
paper, Bhaer strips it from the book, frowning) 
Ach, one of those sensation papers with their horrid 
pictures. I am short-sighted, sir. I did not see 
him. The Spread Eagle, a family story ' paper. 
These papers are not for young- people to read. I 
haf no patience with those who make this harm. 

March. You are right to put the paper from 
you. Young people should not see such thing's. 

(Looks at Jo, quietly enjoying her discomfiture,) 

Bhaer. I would more rather gif a child of mine 
gunpowder to play with than this bad trash. 

Jo. All may not be bad, only silly ; and if there 



LITTLE WOMEN 8i 

is a demand for it, I don't see any harm in supply- 
ing it. Many very respectable people make an hon- 
est living- out of what are called sensational stories. 

CMarch catches Jo's eye, smiles — she turns away.) 

Bhaer. (Vehemently) There is a demand for 
whiskey, but I think you and I do not care to sell 
it. If the respectable people knew what harm they 
did, they would not think their living honest. They 
haf no right to put poison in the sugar plum and let 
the small ones eat it. And the people who write 
these stories are not only men, but women I grief 
to say, for in so doing they desecrate their most 
womanliest nature. For to lif with thieves,^ mur- 
derers and criminals, even dough it is only in imagi- 
nation, it is to lif in bad company. 

(Teaming Mp the paper — throws it into fireplacei 
taking care to throw it over grate onto floor be- 
hind. Electrician lights stnall piece of paper in 
grate. March looking on, evidently amused at 
the way Jo has taken her lesson. Jo looks un- 
comfortable. Mrs. March, bending over her 
work, is smiling.) 

And I should like to send all the rest after him. 
(Rams the last vestige of the paper into grate with 
poker) My apologies to you and — (with a little 
whimsical smile) — to Schiller! (Looking at them 
all — going R.c.j 

March. (Rising and meeting Bhaer r.c.j I 
shall enjoy your Schiller, sir, very much — thank 
you. 

Mrs. March. Professor, will you not stay to tea 
and meet the rest of the family ? We should so like 
to have you. 

Bhaer. Ach, I am sorrowful I must say no. 



82 LITTLE WOMEN 

("Mrs. March rises) And take myself quickly away 
from this so pleasant home, but after I tell Mees 
Marsche that I do myself the pleasure to call this 
evening, a message for me come that I must heed. 

(]o rises.) 

Mrs. March. I am sorry, perhaps another time 
you will stay. 

Bhaer. (Taking her hand as he speaks) I shall 
so gladly come again if you gif me leaf, dear 
MaJdame. 

Mrs. March. (Cordially) We shall always be 
glad to see you. Professor Bhaer. Good night. 

Bhaer. Good night, Madame — good night, sir. 
— (Turning to March, then goes to c. in front of 
table c, turns to them again and says) — Good night, 
good night, my friend. (Very impressive in his 
manner to ]o.) 

Jo. Good night, Professor Bhaer. (She picks up 
his hat, as he starts to go, forgetting it) Professor 

Bhaer (She goes with him to door) Good 

night, sir. 

(Gives Bhaer his hat. As Jo hands hat to Bhaer, 
he, being nearsighted, looks closely to see what 
it is — puts hand to head, etc., then with a smile, 
says quickly) 

Bhaer. Good night. (Exits) 

("Jo stands with back to door, embarrassed, looking 
at father and mother. Mr. and Mrs. March 
have exchanged meaning glances.) 

March. I suspect that is a wise man. 
Mrs. March. And I think he is a good one. 
(Starting toward dining room) 



LITTLE WOMEN 83 

Jo. I knew you would like him. 

(Going r. at back of chair r. of table c, and 
pushes chair downstage for father. March 
sits in chair R. of table c, takes out spectacles, 
preparing to read Schiller.) 

Mrs. March. I must see Hannah about tea, and 

Father (Gets March his hat from dining room 

then comes downstage) Do you remember you 
promised to call on Aunt March to-day ? 

March. (A little disappointed) Oh, yes, I'll go 
directly, Mother. 

(Puts book on table and exitsj to hall l.i.e. Exit 
Mrs. March to dining room.) 

Jo. (Speaking to herself — picks up the Schiller) 
How nice — Mr. Bhaer looked — so trim and neat — 
dear old fellow, he couldn't have gotten himself up 
with more care if he'd been going a-wooing. 

(Sits at R. of fable c, seems confused at her own 
suggestion — puts book down as Laurie enters 
from study, closing door behind him.) 

Laurie. Everybody gone? I'm glad — (Goes to 
Jo — tenderly) for I want to say something I've 
wanted to say for a long time. 

Jo. (Putting out her hands imploringly) No, 
Teddy ; please don't. ("R. of table c.) 

Laurie. (Determined) It's no use, Jo; we've 
got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both 
of us. 

Jo. (Sighing) Say what you like, then — I'll lis- 
ten. 

Laurie. I've loved you ever since I've known 
you, Jo; couldn't help it. You've been so good to 
me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me. 



84 LITTLE WOMEN 

Now I'm going to make you hear, and give me your 
answer, for I can't go on like this any longer. 

Jo. I wanted to save you this. I thought you'd 
understand 

Laurie. I know you did, but girls are so queer 
you never know what they mean. They say no 
when they mean yes, and drive a man out of his 
wits just for the fun of it. 

Jo. I don't. I never wanted you to care for me, 
so, and I've tried to keep you from it. 

Laurie. I thought so, but it was no use. I only 
loved you all the more — and I've waited and never 
complained, for I hoped you'd love me, although I'm 

not half good enough (His voice breaks as he 

leaves the sentence unfinished) 

Jo. (Tenderly) Yes, you are — ^you're — ^you're 
a great deal too good for me, and I'm so proud and 
fond of you, I don't see why I can't love you as you 
want me to. I've tried, but I can't change the feel- 
ing, and it would be a lie to say I do when I don't. 

Laurie. (Grasping both her hands over R. arm 
x)f chair) Really truly, Jo? 

Jo. (Regretfully) Really truly, dear. ("Laurie 
drops her hands, turns away and hides his face on 
the mantel-shelf, resting it on his arm. Jo goes 
over remorsefully and pats him on the shoulder) 
Oh, Teddy, I'm so sorry ! I'm so desperately sorry, 
I could kill myself, if it would do any good. I wish 
you wouldn't take it so hard. I can't help it. You 
know it's impossible for people to make themselves 
love other people if they don't. 

Laurie. (His face still hidden, voice muffled) 
They do sometimes. 

Jo. (Backing away from Laurie j T don't be- 
lieve it's the right sort of love, and I'd rather not try 
it. (A pause — while Jo stands at c. table — Laurie 



LITTLE WOMEN 85 

does not raise his head) Laurie, I want to tell you 
something-. 

Laurie. (Starting up quickly, and speaking 
harshly) Don't tell me that, Jo; I can't bear it 
now. 

Jo. (Surprised) Tell you what? 

Laurie. (Fiercely) That you love that old 
man. 

Jo. What old man ? 

Laurie, (r.c.) That devilish old professor you 
are always writing and talking about. If you say 
you love him (Clenching his hands) 

Jo. (In front of table c.) Teddy Laurence, I 
never thought of such a thing ! He's good and kind, 
and the best friend I've got — (^Laurie makes excla- 
mation) next to you. He isn't old or — or — devilish 
— and I know I shall get angry if you abuse my pro- 
fessor. 

Laurie. There — I told you! 

Jo. I haven't the least idea of falling in love 
with him — or anybody else. 

Laurie. But you will after a while, and then 
what will become of me? (Turns front) 

Jo. You'll love someone else, too, and forget all 
this trouble. 

Laurie. (Stamping his foot to emphasise his 
words) I can't love anyone else, and I'll never for- 
get you, Jo — never! 

Jo. Teddy, do be reasonable, and take a sensible 
view of the case. 

^ Laurie. I won't be reasonable (Turns R. a 

bit) I don't want to take what you call a sensible 
view, it won't help me and it only makes you harden 
I don't believe you've got any heart. 

Jo. (Turning, her voice quivering) I wish I 
hadn't 

Laurie. (Seeing his advantage, putting his arm 
around her and saying in his most wheedlesome tone) 



86 LITTLE WOMEN 

Don't disappoint us, dear; everyone expects it. 
Grandpa has set his heart upon it ; your people like 
it, and I can't ^et on without you. Say you will 
and let's be happy. Ah — do — do! 

Jo. (In front of c. table, shaking her head sadly) 
I can't say yes, truly, so I won't say it at all. (^Lau- 
rie moves away -r.) You'll see that I'm right by- 
and-by and thank me for it. 

Laurie. (Indignantly) I'll be hanged if I do. 

Jo. Yes, you will. You'll get over this after a 
while and find some nice, accomplished girl, who 
will adore you and make a fine mistress of your fine 

house (Movement of dissent from LaurieJ 

I shouldn't. I'm homely and awkward and odd and 
old, and you'd be ashamed of me. And I shouldn't 
like elegant society, and you would, and you'd hate 
my scribbling, and I couldn't get on without it, and 
we should be unhappy and — and — wish we hadn't 
done it. 

Laurie. Anything more? 

Jo. No — nothing more, except that I don't be- 
lieve I shall ever marry. I love my liberty too well 
to be in a hurry to give it up for any mortal man. 

Laurie. (Turning to go) You'll be sorry some 
day, Jo. (Rushes across to l.i.J 

Jo. (Frightened) Oh, where are you going? 

Laurie. (To the door by this time) To the 
devil ! 

(WARN CURTAIN.) 

(]o follows Laurie to about l.c. Mrs. March, 
who has entered quietly by dining-room door, 
speaking as she comes.) 

Mrs. March. (To Laurie, who is at door) 

Laurie, will you ask your grandfather ("Jo 

turns and crosses at back to dining room. Mrs. 
March grasps the situation. Going to Laurie at 



LITTLE WOMEN 87 

Hoor L.I., then seeing that Jo has gone, puts a moth- 
erly, sympathetic hand on his arm) My dear, dear 
boy. I know. Be patient. Jo is right. It is better 
this way, I am sure. 

Laurie. (Heartbroken) I don't want the beau- 
tiful, accomplished girl she talks about. I want 
Jo. 

Mrs. March. I know, dear, but the hurt will 
heal, and some time you will find just the right 

Amy. (Calling from stairway, her voice floating 
'down before she appears) Laurie, are you there 
yet ? f Mrs. March crosses r.) 

(She comes down stairway, clad all in n/hite, a bald, 
gown, decollete; shoulders framed in rosebuds 
and bunches of the buds on her gozun; one arm 
gloved; a pale blue scarf thrown over her^ 
golden head, carries old-fashioned bouquet in 
white paper holder.) 

Laurie. (Pulling himself together, quickly) 
Yes, I was just going. 

Amy. (Down to Laurie l., holds out one arm 
for him to button glove) Please! (Bus. — Laurie 
bends to fasten her glove, Mrs. March smiling, 
looking on) Thank you. Wilt see me to my coach, 
Sir Knight? f Laurie smiles, takes her hand and 
passes her in front of him so that they are in the 
doorway) Good night, Marmee. 

Mrs. March. (Tenderly) Good night, children. 

Laurie. (Squaring his shoulders and offering 
Amy his arm) Good night, Mother, I'll look after 
Amy. (They exit together, Amy first. Jo, who has 
been standing in the dining-room door watching this 
little scene, not seen by the others, watches them go. 
Mrs. March, as if well pleased with the turn of 
events, exits r.i.e. to study. Jo comes forward; 
stands back of table c. looking at the door through 



88 LITTLE WOMEN 

which Laurie and Amy passed. There is the sound 
of laughter, Laurie speaks off) No, Amy, I won't 
be late. 

(^Jo's hand falls on Bhaer's Schiller lying on the 
table. She takes it up, looks at it tenderly and 
holds if against her breast.) 

Music: Curtain down. Rubinstein Song: *'Du 
Bist Wie Eine Blume." 
Time of Scene: 22 minutes. 

MEDIUM CURTAIN 



ACT THREE 



Time : Two and a half years later. Afternoon. 

Lights : Less than Act I and II. Medium curtain. 

Discovered: Hannah, sweeping and putting the 
rooms to rights, working, sweeping, etc., at door- 
way L. ; shakes mat in entry way; puts broom, 
dustpan, and cloth in entry way, goes to the 
foot of stairs, listens and smiles mysteriously 
when Amy enters from the study. 

For Rise: Music. Settee is off. Wing chair is 
back at fireplace. Big, old-fashioned hair-cloth 
sofa in window center, with crotcheted afghan 
on it. 

Baby spot — r.i. 
Amber Bunch l.i. 

Amy. (Enter r.i., going to Hannah at stair- 
way ) Hannah! Beth is asleep and I can't wait 
any longer to s'^'^ Meg. Is mother upstairs ? 

Hannah. (Chuckling) Ah, sure they're all up- 
stairs. A warshipin' at the cradle and Miss Meg as 
happy as a queen. 

Amy. Oh, Hannah, isn't it beautiful? What do 
you suppose Laurie will say when he comes home? 

Hannah. Sure it's a mercy Misther ^Laurie 
wazzant here when it happened. We didn't want 
no hurrycanes around. I must go see about my din- 
ner. (Starts towards dining-room door) 

Amy. (At table, up near window) Have every- 
thing very nice, Hannah. 

Hannah. Oh, yis. But me mind is that flus- 
89 



90 LITTLE WOMEN 

tered with Miss Meg it'll be a merrycle if I don't 
roast the pudding and stuff the turkey with raisins, 
let alone a boilin' of him in a cloth. (Exit il3eJ 

Amy. (Leaning against the banister l. Look- 
ing expectantly upstairs, with a smile) Think of 
Meg as a mother — and Marmee a grandmother! 
(Smiling proudly) And I'm an aunt — ^Aunt Amy ! 
(Turning and walking proudly downstage l.c. — 
Mrs. March enters softly downstairs) Oh, Mar- 
mee! (Laughing and making profound bow) I 
beg your pardon. Grandma March. (Backing down- 
stage in front of stairway toward desk L.j 

Mrs. March. (Smiling, goes R.) John was the 
first to call me that. It doesn't seem but yesterday 
since Meg was married. 

Amy. Yet, it's more than two years. Oh, Mar- 
mee, mayn't I go up now? 

Mrs. March. Yes, dear. ^^Amy starts up with a 

rush, stops R.C.J But gently f Amy tiptoes the 

rest of the way and exits) Remember the little 
mother is resting in the next room. Mrs. March 
crosses and looks info study anxiously, smiles, closes 
door and turns as Mr. Laurence enters l.i.e.) 

Mr. Laurence. (Comes c, hat in hand, smiling) 
Good morning, Madame; this is a happy household 
to-day. 

Mrs. March. Yes ; we are very happy and very 
thankful. 

Mr. Laurence. John was over early to tell us 
the good news. 

Mrs. March. It was an anxious night, but joy 
came with the morning. 

Mr. Laurence. Is Jo going with me to the sta- 
tion to meet my boy Laurie? 

Mrs. March. She isn't back from Aunt March's 
yet, but if she is too late, please remember she's 
asked to be the first to tell Laurie about Meg, so 
don't even hint. 



LITTLE WOMEN 91 

Mr. Laurence. Not a hint, ma'am. But it can't 
be a complete surprise, you know. How is Beth? 

Mrs. March. She is asleep in the study. 

Mr. March. (Enters down the stairs, very 
proud, comedy strut, coming down l.c.J Good 
morning. 

Mr. Laurence. Good morning, sir (Shak- 
ing hands) This should be the proudest day of 
your life 

Mr. March. (Smiling) I think it is. 

Mr. Laurence. (Going to L.i.j Laurie and I 
should be back in half an hour. Tell Miss Jo I 
promise secrecy. 

(Exit L.i.E. Mr. March, closes door after him; 
turns and looks upstairs where Meg and babies 
are, Mrs. March does same. Then Mr. 
March holds out his arms to Mrs. March and 
she comes into them — embrace and kiss.) 

Mr. March. Mother! 

Mrs. March. Father! 

Mr. March. Meg and John are like two chil- 
dren with a new toy ; and Amy, bless her, hovers 
over the cradle like a golden-haired Madonna. 

Mrs. March. (Going to front of stairway )^ She 
will get her model from life now, dear little girl. I 
presume she has started a sketch already. 

Mr. March. Well, when I came down it wasn't 
art, but finery. (Starts to go R.J She and Meg 
were discussing some problem about ribbons and 
poor John seemed helpless. 

(Going r. to mantel.) 

Mrs. March. Imagine poor John knowing any- 
thing about ribbons. 



92 LITTLE WOMEN 

(Starts up staircase, Mr. March at mantel, takes 
up letters and wrapped hook, etc.) 

Jo. (Enters l.i.e., breathless — taking off things) 
I ran all the way from Aunt March's. She's as 
proud as a peacock and tries not to show it, snort- 
ing and scolding" one minute and asking questions the 
next. I know I am too late to meet Teddy ! 

Mrs. March. Yes; Mr. Laurence left here a 
few minutes ago. 

(Exits upstairs and Jo takes off her things during 
the preceding speeches and puts them on small 
seat under stairway — sits l. of table c.) 

Mr. March. (Going to r. of table c.) Jo, this 
looks like a book for you ! (Hands her package — 
then sits r. of table c, takes out spectacles, prepar- 
ing to read letters) 

Jo. For me? (Undoing parcel) Father — it's 
Professor Bhaer's English translation of Schiller — 
author's copy — autographed — and with an inscrip- 
tion in his own hand-writing. (Looking conscious 
as she studies it closely) 

March. Oh, what has he written? 

Jo. Why, Father, the dear old fellow has ac- 
tually credited me with being his inspiration. 

/Amy enters on stairs, almost running, so eager to 
start her Madonna. Jo and Mr. March laugh 
quietly. Amy goes to sofa in window c. and be- 
gins sketching.) 

Mr. March. Perhaps you were his inspiration, 
Jo. 

Jo. Much more likely that he's been mine, for 
he's made me ashamed of writing trash. 

Mr. March. I wish that philosophy paid better 



LITTLE WOMEN 93 

in this money-loving world and then my girl 
wouldn't have to be writing lurid tales. 

Jo. Well, Plato ("March smiles) "The 

Duke's Daughter" paid the butcher's bill ; "A Phan- 
tom Hand," put down a new carpet ; and "The Curse 
of the Conventrys" proved the blessing of the 
Marches in the way of groceries and gowns ; so the 
inside of my head can at least take care of the out- 
side. 

Mr. March. How is the book coming on? Any 
news from the publisher? 

Jo. Well, they sent back the first chapters; 
thought they were dull. 

Mr. March. Oh! 

Jo. So did I, but I've started 'em out again, and 
now — (Laughs) — I'm sitting like Patience on a hard 
chair smiling at an inkstand. 

Mr. March. Life is your college, dear, and you 
will graduate with honors, I know. 

Jo. Well, disappointment must be good for me, 
I get so much of it, and the constant thumping Fate 
gives me may prove a mellowing process, so I shall 
be a ripe and sweet old pippin before I die. 

Mr. March. (Rises, laughs heartily, going R.j 
All the philosophy in the house is not in the study, I 
see. 

(Exits to study R.i.J 

Amy. (Coming dozvn to back of c. table, back 
to table, holding out the sketch) Look, Jo, see my 
modern Madonna. 

Jo. It's great, Amy, you have Meg's expression 
exactly. You're going to be the real genius of the 
March family, after all. I'm the grub and you're 
the butterfly. 

Amy. Jo! How can you say that? Think of 
all you've done for all of us. Why, it's you who 



94 LITTLE WOMEN 

"have made me ambitious to do my share. How I 
shall work when I get to Rome. Think of it, Jo — 
I sail in less than a month ! Wasn't it good of Aunt 
Curtis to invite me? 

Jo. Splendid, little Raphael, splendid! 

Amy. Do you think I'm selfish to go, Jo? 
Father and mother both tell me to, but with Beth sa 
ill it seems as if I were leaving such a burden for 
you to carry alone. 

Jo. Oh, don't think about me. Take your chance 
and make all you can of it. Laurie and his Grandpa 
will be going over soon and they'll see that you have 
a perfectly plummy time. 

Mrs. March. (Comes down the stairs — goes ta 
"windozv L.) Here comes Laurie, girls! 

^Jo rises, stands in front of table c. Amy puts her 
drawing board at l. foot of sofa and drops 
down R.) 

Laurie. '(Enters l.i.e. — goes to Mrs. March's 
arms) How do you do, everybody! College is 
great, but oh, I say — it's good to be home ! (Takes- 
bath Mrs. March's hayids, looks into her eyes, 
smiling) Yes, Mother, it's all right ! (Kisses her) 

Jo. (Rapturously) My Teddy — oh, my Teddy l 

Laurie. (Throws hat on table c. ; goes to Jo, c^ 
^-tenderly) Dear Jo, are you glad to see me? 

Jo. Glad ? My blessed boy, words can't express 
my gladness. 

Laurie. (Goes to Amy r.c, as if to embrace 
her — Amy starts back, a little embarrassed) Amy— 
(Pause) — ^you're a picture in that gown ! 

Amy. I'm glad you like the frock, Laurie — t 
made it myself. 

(Study door opens and Beth, carrying a Paisley 
shazd on l. arm, enters with Mr. March. Am^ 



LITTLE WOMEN 95 

and Jo go up to window c, also Mrs. March. 
They fix the sofa and cushions for Beth J 

Mr. March. My boy ! 

Beth. Laurie! 

Laurie. (Crossing to Beth, kissing her) Beth \ 
How is our little Tranquillity ? Have you been gain- 
ing since I went away? (Realizes the change in 
her) 

Beth. (Smiling) Yes, Laurie, I am better, I 
hope. 

Laurie. May I escort you to your throne. Queen 
Bess ? I'm sorry Fm minus my velvet cloak. (Bows 
in courteous manner — Beth smiles at him) 

Jo. Here, Teddy! (Fixing the pillows of sofa 
in window R.c.j Over here in the sunshine. 
(Goes L.) 

(Bus. of settling Beth. Mr. March and Laurie 
help Beth to sofa — March spreads the shawl 
over her; Amy spreads a little white shawl over 
Beth'S shoulders. Hannah enters.) 

Laurie. (Dropping downstage a little above c. 
fable to the r J Bless my soul, I forgot not to make 
a racket, and here's Hannah poking her head in the 
door to warn me: "Shake not thy gory locks at 
me !** Hannah, come hither ! 

fHANNAH approaches R., carrying turkey in right 
hand. Laurie embraces her heartily — Hannah 
looks at him adoringly.) 

Hannah. (Laughs) Oh, Misther Laurie, 
you're the Blarney, but you're bonnier than ever, 
and that's the truth. 

(Suddenly becomes aware of the turkey she is car- 



96 LITTLE WOMEN 

Tying, covers it up with apron and retires up-- 
stage r. a hit. March goes down to fireplace 
as Hannah goes up r.) 

Laurie. (Covering his face wnth his hands as 
if to hide his blushes) Oh, don't, Hannah ! Where 
is Brooke? And how's the little Mamma? Why 
didn't you tell me before I ^ot home? Grandpa 
is so mysterious, he refuses to say whether it's a boy 
tor a girl. 

Hannah. (Grinning — coming forward) Miss 
Jo sez 

Jo. (Goes to staircase) Never mind what Miss 
Jo says. Wait, Teddy, not a word from anyone — 
mind! 

'(Exits upstairs with a rush, Hannah retires up- 
stage R. behind armchair at fireplace.) 

Laurie. (Dropping down r. to Marchj Jupiter 
Ammon ! What does she mean ? 
Mr. March. You wait, Laurie. 

/Brooke appears on the stairs, comes to L.C^ 

Laurie. Ah! Greetings, Father Brooke 

'(Going l.c. to BrookeJ How is Mrs. Brooke and 
the little Brooke? 

Brooke. (Shaking hands) All doing nicely,, 
thank you. 

'(Enter Jo at top of stairs with large bundle on a 
pillow covered with blanket. Brooke retires 
L., Jo comes down l.c. to Laurie.j 

Jo. (Calls) Shut your eyes ! (She advances with 
-measured stride. Laurie backs to the r. corner 
behind, Brooke follows) Shut your eyes and hold 
out your arms. (Backing Laurie across stage to R.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 97 

Laurie. (At study door r.i.) No, thank you! 
I'd rather not. I shall drop or smash it as sure as 
Fate ! 

Jo. Then you sha'n't see your nevvy ! ^ 

Laurie. ~ (Holding out his arms) I will — I will 
— only you must be responsible for damages. 

Jo. Shut your eyes ! ("Laurie closes his eyes- 
Jo puts bundle into his arms. The others, dropping 
down to R.c. above Jo and Laurie, looking on. Jo 
puts back the blanket, uncovering the little heads of 
the twins) Now look 1 

('Laurie opens his eyes, looks at babies, face changes 
from curiosity to bewilderment. Jo so over- 
come she sits on the floor and holds her sides, 

R.C.J 

Laurie. Twins, by Jupiter! Take 'em quick- 
somebody— Fm going to laugh, and I shall drop 
'em! 

(Goes into roar of laughter. Mrs. March and 
Amy go up to Beth. Brooke rescues the 
babies, stops up l.c. Holding babies so their 
heads are toward audience. After laugh, 
Brooke goes up to group around Beth. Han- 
nah exits, laughing, R.3E. March goes with 
Brooke.j 

Jo. Well, I set my heart on surprising you, and 
I flatter myself, IVe done it. 

Laurie. (Wiping his eyes) Was never more 
staggered in my life. (Goes to l. of Jo; Isn't it 
fun? Are they boys? Let's have another look. 
What are you going to call them? ("Amy drops 
down to R. — Brooke drops down to l. of Lau- 
rie; Here, Jo (]o slowly rises) When you 



98 LITTLE WOMEN 

get through unfolding like an animated puzzle, hold 
me up, will you? For, upon my word, it's one too 
many for me ! f Laurie drops into Jo's arms, goes 
to her L.) 

Brooke, /l.c, proudly to Laurie and Jo) Boy 
and girl — aren't they beauties? 

Laurie. Most remarkable children I ever saw. 
Which is which? (Bus. — Brooke can't tell — Lau- 
rie laughs) 

Jo. Amy put a blue ribbon on the boy and a pink 
on the girl, French fashion, so you can always tell. 
Besides, one has blue eyes and one brown. Kiss 
them. Uncle Teddy. 

Laurie. (Hesitating) I'm afraid they mightn't 
like it. 

Jo. (Teasing) Of course they will. Do it this 
minute, sir. 

(^Laurie screws up his face, takes one peek at the 
bundle, then another. Squall from the bundle 
and everyone laughs,) 

Laurie. There! I knew they wouldn't like it. 
(Baby cry) That's the boy — look at him kick — ^he 
hits out like a good one. Now then, young Brooke, 
pitch into a man of your own size, will you? 
(Brooke swings the babies toward LaurieJ 

Amy. (Proudly) He's to be named John Lau- 
rence, and the girl Margaret after mother and grand- 
mother. We shall call her Daisy, so as not to have 
two Megs in the family, and as we can't have two 
Johns either, I suppose the "mannie" will be Jack 
unless we find a better name. 

Laurie. (Hand on Brooke's shoulder, seriously) 
John and little John. (Teasingly) Why — name him 
Demijohn ! f Brooke glares at him) And call him 
Demi for short. 



LITTLE WOMEN 99 

("Brooke turns away with mock indignation, going 
to stair.) 

Jo. (Clapping her hands) Daisy and Demi! 
Just the thing! I knew Teddy would do it. 

^Brooke exits upstairs with babies — ^All laugh,) 

Mr. March. (Laughing, goes to door L.i. as 
Brooke goes to stairway) All this, while very 
pleasant, isn't preparing next Sunday's talk. Til 
seek inspiration under the trees. (Exits l.i.e.j 

Amy. My drawing lesson's at four — it's time I 
started. (Going to l.c. j 

Laurie. I'll walk with you, Mademoiselle, if I 
may. 

Amy. Avec plaisir, monsieur. (Goes to closet to 
get hat) 

Mrs. March. And I must help Hannah. Jo, 
will you look after Beth? 

Jo. (Goes L. to desk to get her writing box) 
Yes, Marmee, I'm going to write and cuddle Bethy 
as soon as the excitement is over. 

('Mrs. March exits r.u.e.J 

Beth. (Having picked up Amy's drawing 
board) Oh, Amy, how lovely — how lovely! 

Amy. (Goes to Beth at window c.) Beth, I 
didn't want you to see it until it was finished — I was 
doing it for you. 

Beth. How good everyone is to me. You al- 
ways make me think of beauty. Amy, and of the 
gladness of the spring. You are our March sun- 
shine, dear. 

(Reaching up her arm and pulling Amy down to 
kiss her; Amy fixes the pillows and makes her, 



100 LITTLE WOMEN 

comfy during the following scene. Jo goes to 
L. of table C.J 

Laurie. Won't you come, Jo? (Goes to her) 
Come, don't be thorny, a fellow deserves a little 
petting after a long grind in college. 

Jo. Amy will pet you. I'm busy. 

Laurie. Amy isn't given to petting. (Puts 
hands on her shoulders and says in zuheedling tone:) 
Do you hate your boy and want him to go away ? 

Jo. (Petting his face in sisterly, fond fashion) 
You know I don't, Teddy dear, but Beth needs me 
now. (Her voice breaks) 

Laurie. (Bending until his face rests on her 
hair) I understand, Jo. (Voices outside) 

Mr. March. (Outside) Come right in — ^they'll 
all be glad to see you. 

Bhaer. And I to see them — I have waited long 
to greet them all again. 

(Enter, followed by March — Bhaer carries forget- 
me-nots in his hand — stops as he sees Laurie 
with his arm around Jo — Laurie starts back — 
Jo embarrassed.) 

Jo. Oh, Mr. Bhaer! (Goes to him — then stops 
and turns abruptly away; twitches collar, smoothes 
hair, frenzied attempt to make herself tidy) Oh, I 
look such a fright ! (Turns again to Bhaer, hold- 
ing out hand) When did you come? You remem- 
ber Laurie, don't you ? 

CBhaer starts to hand her flowers, gets embar- 
rassed, changes flowers to other hand, shakes 
hands with ]o.) 

Bhaer. (Ready Robin at window) Indeed I 
do, most pleasantly. (Crosses to him) 



LITTLE WOMEN loi 

Laurie. How do you do, Professor Bhaer ? 

Bhaer. Very well, I tank you. (Turning to Jo, 
who drops down l, half hands her the flowers, then 
takes them back again) I arrif only this morning, 
Mees Marche. How is the leetle sick one? 

Mr. March. Come right up here and speak to 
her, Professor. 

Bhaer. (Places hat on table c. as he goes up 
with Mr. March — crossing to Beth, and handing 
her the flowers) May I venture to offer these 
flowers to my leetle friend? They make me think 
of your eyes. 

("March goes to l. end of sofa, Bhaer at r. end.) 

Beth. Oh, thank you, sir. 

/Beth takes the flowers. Jo gets Bhaer's hook 
from c. table and stands with Laurie by desk 
— Laurie upstage facing front, Jo with hack 
to audience.) 

Amy. Mr. Bhaer, it is good to see you here 
again. 

Bhaer. And it is goot to be here, Mees Amy. 
("Amy goes into dining room for vase. He turns 
and sees Jo and Laurie together; comes down 
c. to R. of c. table. March is hack of c. 
table) And may I congratulate this happy house- 
hold? (Pause — looks between Jo and Laurie — 
they separate, March takes in the situation) 
Motherhood is the deepest and tenderest experience 
in a woman*s life. 

Jo. And may I congratulate you, sir, on the 
beautiful book? ^Bhaer goes to Jo, l.J I never 
had anything dedicated to me before — and to begin 
with Schiller! 



I02 LITTLE WOMEN 

(Puts the book on desk. As Laurie and MARCit 
go to Beth, Amy returning at once, puts Beth's 
flowers in vase and places them on window sill 
and sits R. on sofa. Laurie sits in chair at r., 
head of sofa and March sits on small stool at 
foot of sofa L. Amy sits on sofa beside Beth 
— threads her needle for her — Beth is sewing 
on the little baby jacket.) 

Bhaer. As your g-oot Fadder says, Mees 
Marche, always begin with the best. But you — ^you 
have been ill, my friend? (Looking at her closely) 

Jo. Not ill, but a little tired, and worried about 
Beth. 

Bhaer. Ah, yes, I know, for the goot Fadder 
he has told me, and my heart, he grieves for you. 
I wish I could help — do something. 

Jo. Thank you, sir, but nothing can help me just 

now — except to have Beth get well (Places 

her hand on Bhaer's arm — her voice breaking) She 
seems to be slipping away from us. 

Bhaer. (Takes Jo's hand) Dot is in Gott's 
hands, Mees Marche ; but the spring comes. — (^Lau- 
rie rises and arranges Beth's pillows — Bhaer 
turns and sees this) — And dot should help my little 
friend. (Gets hat from table c.) I know you may 
tink of me — he is a stupid old fellow; he will not 
see. But I haf an eye, and I see much; I haf a 
heart, and I feel — I tink it besser to say not what I 
feel — now. (Starts to go l.t.e.j 

Jo. (Quickly — putting out her hand) Oh, you 
are not going so soon ? ^Bhaer /wrw^j Mother will 
be in directly. 

(READY LIGHTS.) 

Bhaer. Tank you, but I must go. (Takes Jo's 
hand, looks across at LaurieJ I tink it is time. 
(Almost as if he zvere putting her out of his life 



LITTLE WOMEN . 103 

forever) May the happiness which you haf so 
richly deserved be yours for always, my friend. 
Good-bye. (Opens door) 

Jo. (SnrJ>rised) Good-bye? 

Bhaer. (Turns, with sad little smile) Well, 
den, let us say Auf Wiedersehn. (Exits l.i.e j 

(]o stands at window l., looking after him. Robin 
chirps.) 

Beth. Listen — that's my robin ! ('Laurie rises) 
See how he struts and tries to show off. He's sing- 
ing for his supper. Amy, will you bring me some 
crumbs ? 

("Mr. March turns, looks l. Robin stops.) 

Jo. (Starts quietly for dining room) Til g^ 
them, dear. 

Mr. March. Why, where's the professor? 

Jo. (Without turning) He's gone. (Exit R.3E, 
Laurie looks after her) 

Amy. We must hurry, I'll be late for my les- 
son. 

(Picks up drawing-hoard, kisses Beth and goei 
down to door l. ; then Laurie starts l., turns 
hack, as if he divined a change in Beth — and 
kisses her.) 

Laurie. Good-bye for a little while, Beth. You 
must hurry and get well. 

Beth. Yes, yes — I shall be well soon, Laurie. 
fLAURiE goes down to back of c. table, stops, reaU 
izing Beth's condition. Amy almost says in panto-" 
mime "Are you coming?'* — They exit together L.1.E4 
Mr. March is standing looking out of window — « 
when Beth speaks he goes and sits beside her on 
sofa. Beth holds up a little baby jacket) See, 



104 LITTLE WOMEN 

Father, I wanted to finish it before the babies came. 
Will you take it to Meg, please, and cell her that 
every stitch means love for her ? 
Mr. March. Yes, dear, I will. 

(Takes jacket, rises, faces front, holding out jacket, 
looks at it, then at Beth, who has lain hack on 
pillows, then exits upstairs.) 

Jo. (Enters with dish of crumbs, opens window). 
Here we are, dear. 

(Sits hack of Beth, holding her up. After Beth 
throws out crumbs, Robin chirps again.) 

Beth. See, Jo, how tame he is. Dear little fel- 
low. I hope he comes back next spring-. ^Beth 
shivers and lies hack) 

Jo. Oh, you're cold, dearie. (Closes zvindows) 
Aren't you tired of sitting on the sofa, and sha'n't 
I tuck you up in the big chair by the fire ? 

Beth. Yes, please, and (Handing over the 

work basket) Please put these things away. The 
needle is so heavy — and I am tired 

Jo. (Turns armchair, throws pillozvs onto floor 
R.C., up to sofa, very gently lifts Beth — says:) 
Upsy daisy! (Places Beth in chair, then pushes 
chair downstage to about r.c. a little R. in front of 
fireplace) Now Til give you a nice long ride. (Puts 
pillows under feet and shawl over her legs. Lights 
change to light amber, dim foots and Jst. border ac- 
cordingly) Are you all right now, little sister? 

(Beth's lines must be spoken sweetly and happily — 
without tears or fear of death; trying to make 
it easy for others. Simplicity and faith the 
keynote.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 105 

Beth. Yes, thank you. (]o sits on floor at l. of 
chair — a little pause) Jo, I thought of Meg all night 
long, as I lay awake. Dear, happy little mother in 
that room upstairs. I thought of the angel sent to 

show those little babies the way to this life and 

(Reaching for Jo's hand) Jo — perhaps waiting to 
show some weary soul the way to — a more perfect 
life — how strange the coming and the going — and 
how beautiful — I think Tve just been waiting to see 
Meg's babies. (]o looks quickly at her sister and 
shows that she understands at last the nearness of 
the parting. Beth smiles tenderly. Jo hides her 
face in Beth's lap. Beth smoothes her hair. Jo 
sobs) Jo, dear, I'm glad you understand. I've 
wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. Will you tell 
the others for me ? 

Jo. (Quietly sobbing) Beth! What are you 

saying? You're not going God wouldn't be 

so cruel. 

Beth. (Holding her close, for a moment the 
stronger of the two) Hush, Jo ! This morning — I 
watched the sunrise. As the darkness faded into the 
gray and violet ... I watched and waited. The 
sky got rosy and beautiful — , and then it seemed as 
if everything stood still — as if God's hand had rested 
on the earth for a moment — and then — the glory 
of the sun! It seemed Hke going through a long, 
dark passage — or a grave — and suddenly coming in 
to light, and, Jo, dear, I felt for the first time — the 
nearness of God. I knew that the Angel of Life 
was waiting for me. (With radiant face) 

Jo. Beth ! I'm not going to give you up 

Beth. But I sha'n't be far away. I'll go on 
helping all I can, dear. The only hard part is leav- 
ing you all. I'm not afraid — but it seems as if I 
should be homesick for you even in Heaven. 

Mrs. March. (Enters from dining room, comes 
R. of chair, speaking as she comes down) Beth, 



io6 LITTLE WOMEN 

dear, come with mother (Looks at Beth and 

sees her sinking condition — takes her wrist and r. 
hand to feel pulse, left hand to forehead) I want 
you to lie down. 

Beth. I think I will, Marmee. (]o takes shawl 
and pillows, remaining on knees. Beth rises with 
rapt expression as if seeing a beautiful vision. Mrs. 
March helps Beth to door r.iJ Tell them soon, 
Jo — very soon 

(]o has risen, takes Beth's hand and kisses it. Jo 
nods, too overcome to speak.) 

Mrs. March. Come, dear. 

(A light in R.i. beams on Beth just before she exits, 
as she pauses, in door. Jo closes the door softly 
behind Beth — passes her hand lovingly over 
Beth's chair, takes up her pillow, kisses it and 
breaks into sobs, sinks onto sofa, burying face 
in pillow. March and Brooke laugh outside.) 

Mr. March. (Laughing, he and Brooke coming 
downstairs) Daisy certainly shows a proper appre- 
ciation of her new finery. (As they reach l.c, 
Brooke filling pipe. Lights change to dark amber. 
Foots and ist border accordingly) Oh, John! 

Brooke. (Laughing) Can't be a bad example to 
my son, and I must smoke, Father. Will you join 
me for a turn in the g-arden? 

Mr. March. (Going to door L.J You shouldn't 
begin by hiding your vices, John. But I'll go 

(They step into the hallway, where John stops to 
light his pipe. Meg's voice upstairs is heard 
crooning an old lullaby to her babies. ''Oh, hush 
thee, my baby; Thy sire was a knight," etc. This 



LITTLE WOMEN 107 

continues intermittently and softly to the end of 
the act. Jo goes down and sits l. of table c. 
where her small zuriting desk is, and tries to 
write— ^looks up — her head in her hands. Study 
door opens and Mrs. March enters — closes 
door softly.) 

Mrs. March. (Unemotionally — restrained) Jo, 
dear, go to Beth. She is asking- for you. 
Jo. Yes, Mother. (Exits to study) 

{'Mrs. March starts to the stairs; just as she reaches 
foot of stairs, Mr. March laughs outside.) 

Mrs. March. (Turning) Father — Father 

(To L. of c.) 

Mr. March. (Enters, followed by Brooke^ 
Mother — what is it? 

Brooke. Is Beth worse ? 

Mrs. March. (Quietly, but tensely) It's the 
end, I'm afraid. She asked for Jo. I must send 
Hannah for Amy. 

Brooke. I'll go. 

Mrs. March. No, you must stay with Meg; she 
can't be told yet. 

Mr. March. (Going back of c. table) I'll send 
Hannah. 

(Exits R.3E. Mrs. March crosses in a daze to c.) 

Brooke. (Putting his arm about her) It may 
not be the end — only another sinking spell, Mother. 
Don't give up hope. 

Mrs. March. Oh, John, I'm afraid (As 

she starts for the study door, March re-enters) I'm 

afraid (Goes to study, places hand on door 

knob — turns, meets March in front of closed door. 
Mrs. March breaks down, puts her head against 
his shoulder. He holds her close) 



io8 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mr. March. There, there — my little Spartan 
Mother ! We're not ^oing to sadden Beth's last mo- 
ments with our tears. 

CMrs. March pulls herself together, looks up into 
his face zvith a brave smile. Mr. March opens 
door, Mrs. March enters slowly, slight pause 
— then Mr. March follows. Brooke looks at 
door, then turns, looks up stairs where Meg is 
singing to the hahies. Slight pause — Laurie 
enters l.i., quietly, to l.cJ 

WARN CURTAIN.) 

Laurie. Brooke, what's the matter? I saw 
Hannah flying down the street. When I spoke to her 
she burst out crying- and hurried on. Is it Beth? 

Brooke. (Goes R.J Yes. 

Laurie. Is she worse ? (^Brooke nods) Where 
is Jo? 

Brooke. (Nodding toward study) They are all 
in there with Beth. She must have taken a turn 
for the worse and (Stops as Laurie looks be- 
yond him. Study door opens and March comes 
out, closes door, crosses to Brooke at r. of table c, 
without seeing either of the boys. Brooke puts out 
his hand to March's shoulder) Father! 

C March looks up for a moment, bows his head 
and exits to garden, pausing for a second to lift 
his head to the light — John and Laurie look 
at each other, realising Beth's death.) 

Laurie. (Gently) Dear little Beth. Does Amy 
know? 

Brooke. Not yet. They sent Hannah for her. 

Laurie. I'll go and meet her. 

Brooke. (Starting) Better wait here, I must go 
to Meg. 



LITTLE WOMEN " 109 

(Up to first landing — pauses a moment as he hears 
Meg's voice, pulls himself together and exits — 
Meg's singing stops. Laurie walks slowly up 
to window R.c, looks out of it, evidently waiting 
for Amy J 

Amy. (Enters, running, throws her hat on c. 
table — going to r.c.J Laurie, what is it? Is Beth 
very ill ? 

Laurie. (Coming to Amy quickly, taking both 
her hands and speaking very gently) No, dear; 
Beth is WELL at last. 

("Amy looks up at him, realises the truth, goes to 
Beth's chair, drops to her knees beside it, hides 
her face in arms on chair, sobbing quietly.) 

Amy. Oh ! 

Laurie. (Goes to her) Don^t, dear, don't — 
Little Amy, this isn't the end — it's the beginning. 
This is the time for gladness — not for tears ! (Pause 
with awe and inspiration as they listen. Bird song) 
Don't you get her message from the other side? 

(This must be spoken with great simplicity and sin^ 
cerity.) 

(The Bird is heard singing just outside the win- 
dow; the low, sweet, late afternoon song of the 
sunset hour. At Beth's chair, Laurie has one 
arm across Amy's shoulders, looking at her. 
Her head is resting against him. He looks at 
her with growing tenderness.) 

MEDIUM SLOW CURTAIN 
(As Bird is heard Amy looks up. Hold picture for 



no LITTLE WOMEN 

2nd curtain. No calls. No music for curtain 
down. Overture between Acts III and IV, 
''Sunny South Overture." ) 

(Time of act: 30 minutes,} 



ACT FOUR 

Time: Eighteen months later, October, 1868. A 
golden October afternoon. 

Scene : The Harvest Home. Plumfield. *'A mel- 
low October day, when the air was full of an 
exhilarating freshness, which made the spirits 
rise and the blood dance healthily in the veins. 
The old orchard was in holiday attire; golden- 
rods and asters fringed the mossy walls; grass- 
hoppers skipped briskly in the sere grass, and 
crickets chirped like fairy pipers at a feast; 
squirrels were busy with their small harvesting; 
birds twittered their adieux from the alders on 
the lawn; and every tree stood ready to send 
down its shower of red or yellow apples at the 
first shake. Everybody was there; everybody 
laughed and sang, climbed up and tumbled 
down; everybody declared that there had never 
been such a perfect day, or such a jolly set to 
■enjoy it." 

ACT IV 

Orchard drop in perspective. Two cut drops. One 
platform three feet wide, ten inches high runs 
back of wall between cut drop to c. Padded 
step from platform to stage level. Four-foot 
stone wall and rustic gate from l.i. to L.3. Then 
across the back — Tvith opening center. Big oak 
tree with bench r. Six wood wings. 
Ill 



112 LITTLE WOMEN 

Set for Act IV : An Autumn orchard, with brook 
in middle distance, connected with front stage 
by small rustic bridge. Vistas of red and yel- 
low-leaved trees, with paths between. A clear- 
ing in center stage, covered with turf. Garden 
seat arranged under tree R. at edge of clearing, 
but not to obstruct views up paths leading off 
between trees, right and left. Stone wall cov- 
ered with vines — across the back — opening in 
c. — rustic swing gate l.i.e. Air filled with Au- 
tumn sounds. Practical apple orchard. 

Lights : Straw throughout act. Medium Curtain, 

Music at Rise: Curtain up: "The Birks of Aber- 
feldyr 

Discovered: As the curtain rises slowly, Brooke 
is lying under a tree, r.c. at r., his hat over his 
eyes, pipe in his mouth, hands under head, atti- 
tude of perfect repose. Meg sitting beside him 
on bench under tree. Get the atmosphere of the 
Autumn scene for a few moments, song of 
birds, crickets, ripple from brook; the orchestra 
playing softly and rather slowly, "The Birks of 
Aberfeldy." 

Meg. (Dropping her sewing and looking up at 
the trees, off l., noting the beauty all about her. She 
emdently sees something that interests her in a near- 
by tree, for she speaks to her husband in a subdued 
voice) John! John! (Jown sits up, looks l. Meg 
puts her hand on his shoulder) See that darhng lit- 
tle squirrel. 

Brooke. (Lazily sitting up and following the di- 
rection in which her unlifted finger is pointing, tak- 
ing his pipe from his mouth and emitting a puff of 
smoke) That isn't a squirrel, it*s a chipmunk. (He 



LITTLE WOMEN 113 

drops hack on the ground and continues smoking, an- 
other pause) 

Meg. Smarty! It's such a beautiful place. 
(Smiling) Aunt March certainly did the March 
family one good turn in leaving- dear old Plumfield 
to Jo. 

Brooke. (Sits up and puts his hand on her 
knee, teasingly) She certainly did them another — 
look at the husband she provided for you. 

Meg. (Cuffing him) Conceit, well, there's one 
thing; you're useful as well as ornamental — ^but 
what will Jo do with Plumfield.'* 

Brooke. (Laughs) Why, I think her plan is a 
fine one — to turn it into a home school for boys. 

fAMY enters laughing l.i. — John sits up.) 

Amy. (Going to them) Meg, you should see 
Father and the babies. He's trying to teach them 
the alphabet. 

Brooke. The alphabet ? 

Amy. Yes, with his legs! 

Brooke and Meg. (Exclaim and laugh) His 
legs ! 

Amy. Lying on his back, Demi on the ground 
beside him, their legs in the air making V's and W's 
while — (Showing with her fingers) — Daisy looks on 
in wide-eyed wonder. 

/Meg and Brooke roar; Amy drops down to turf 
beside them.) 

Meg. With a philosopher for a grandfather and 
a tutor for a father, my son will soon be having 
bumps over his eyes and asking unanswerable ques- 
tions. 

Brooke. The Plumfield School has certainly 
started. 



114 LITTLE WOMEN 

Amy. I wish it had. I do want Jo to realize 
her old dream of plenty of boys and plenty of free- 
dom. 

Meg. But it isn't practical, dear. Jo is a born 
tomboy, I know, but even she can't run a boys' 
school, without the right teachers and enough money. 

Brooke. (Insinuatingly) But fond parents have 
been known to pay. 

Amy. Yes, but it would be just like Jo to gather 
up every little ragged urchin that needed a home. 
She'd adopt a whole orphan asylum if she could. 
(Turns up left) 

Brooke. Well, then, I don't see anything for it 
except to have her marry a rich man. ^Amy turns) 

Meg. (Trying to hush him on Amy's account) 
John Brooke, are you turning matchmaker? 

Brooke. No, I leave such trivialities to my wife 

— but wouldn't it be nice if — Laurie (Gets up 

on knees. Amy gets up and moves a little away 

L.U.J 

Meg. John ! (Motions him to he quiet, then put- 
ting on a little affair of lace and flowers she is wak- 
ing; breaking in to change subject; trying to cover 
up John's breaks) John! How do you like my 
new millinery? 

Brooke. It's very pretty. Is that what you call 
a breakfast cap ? 

Meg. My dear man, it's my very best go-to-the- 
concert and theatre bonnet. 

Brooke. (Sitting up and looking interested) I 
beg your pardon. ("Meg illustrates the bonnet. 
Brooke puts his arms about her) It's a love of a 
bonnet, but I prefer the face inside. (Kisses her) 

(Enter Mr. Laurence and Mrs. March from L.3E. 
Amy joins them as they come downstage, takes 
Mr. Laurence's arm.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 115 

Mr. Laurence. (Speaking as they stroll down — 
L. of c.) This is a fine old place and it's been in your 
family for generations. I wish Miss Jo would let 
me help her finance her scheme. 

Mrs. March, (r. of c.) I'm afraid her plan 
isn't feasible. She's no more idea of business than 
a baby. 

Amy. (l.) That's why she's so dear, Mr. Lau- 
rence. 

Meg. Oh, why, when Aunt March left Jo the 
old place, didn't she include money enough to run 
it.? 

Mrs. March. I'm not sure that I altogether ap- 
prove of Jo's plan. She's making a name for her- 
self with her writing, and since our little Beth left 
us, that has been her one pleasure. 

('Laurie enters from L.3 to c.) 

Mr. Laurence. (Not seeing him) Where is 
Jo? 

Meg. I think she's somewhere about the place 
with Laurie. 

Laurie. (Laughing c.) Oh, no she isn't. She's 
showing the professor over Plumfield, and they're 
building educational castles in the air — a. castle on 
every acre. 

(All laugh — ^John lying down in front of Meg.j' 

Mrs. March. Yes, and quite forgetting- that 
there are hungry men to feed. I think I'll tell Han- 
nah to have tea out here under the trees. 

Amy. Oh, do, Marmee, it will be beautiful. 

Meg. (Shaking BrookeJ Get up, you lazy boy. 
(Rises) And help me collect the babies — ■- — (They 
all laugh) It's their sleepy time, remember. 

Brooke. Behold, a henpecked husband! (On 
knees, then rises — they all laugh at fiim) 



ii6 LITTLE WOMEN 

Mr. Laurence. (Following Mrs. March out 
of gate to l.) I seek the philosopher of the apple 
orchard ! 

('Meg crosses to gate "L.) 

Brooke. Aren't you going to wait for me? 
Meg. Come along-, slow poke. 

("Meg, Brooke, Mrs. March and Mr. Laurence 
exit L., through gate laughing- and talking to- 
gether. Amy starts to follow them, hut Laurie 
intercepts her.) 

Laurie. Amy, wait! What a day and what a 
place ! Somehow it makes me think of that old gar- 
den at Valrosa. Do you remember? 

Amy. Shall I ever forget ? You used to read to 
me by the hour, while I sketched. 

Laurie. (Laughing) And lectured. Don't for- 
get that, please. 

Amy. (Contritely) Did I lecture, Laurie? 

Laurie. Well, rather — regular rousers, but it did 
me good, made me ashamed of my lazy ways. (Go- 
ing up c.) When do you begin your great work of 
art, Raphaella? 

Amy. Never. Rome took all the vanity out of 
me, for after seeing the wonders there, I felt too in- 
significant to live, and gave up all my foolish hopes 
in despair. 

Laurie. Why should you, with so much energy 
and talent? 

Amy. That's just why. Because talent isn't 
genius, and no amount of energy can make it so. I 
want to be great or nothing. (Goes r. to seat under 
tree) I won't be a commonplace dauber, so I 
don't intend to try any more. (Sits on r. bench) 

Laurie. I'm glad of it. (Going to her) 

Amy. Why ? 



LITTLE WOMEN 117 

Laurie. Because — because — I — I — well, I don't 
think a career is suited to you, Amy — ^you be- 
long- 



Amy. Yes 

Laurie. " That is — Amy- 

Amy. Yes, Laurie 

Laurie. I — I 

Amy. Yes, Laurie 



Laurie. (To c, floundering hopelessly) Fve 
found those sketches you made of the trail at 
Vevay. 

Amy. (Rises) Wasn't that walk throug-h the 
woods wonderful? But I loved even more our 
mornings on the lake. (Going to c. to him) 

Laurie. (Dreamily) When we floated under 
the tower and in the shadows of the old castle. 

Amy. With the mountains on every side. (Both 
sigh and then look at each other. Laurie is look- 
ing dozvn at Amy so tenderly that Amy is confused 
and afraid to maintain silence, makes an effort to 
go on talking, laughing, embarrassed) How well 
we used to pull tog-ether, didn't we? 

Laurie. (Stopping short and taking both her 
hands in his, facing her and looking down at her 
tenderly, his embarrassment gone, quiet and very 
earnest) So well that I wish we might always pull 
in the same boat. Will you, Amy ? Will you ? 

Amy. (Speaking very softly) Yes, Laurie. 

Laurie. (Taking her in his arms and kissing 
her) When did you begin to care, dear? 

Amy. (Seriously) Always, I think, Laurie, and 
I struggled against it, for I thought you loved Jo. 

Laurie. Dear, I was wrong about Jo, and head- 
strong, and Jo was right. May it be very soon, 
Amy? 

Amy. Yes, dear. 

Laurie. Mrs. Laurence! Oh, I say, how good 
that sounds ! 



iiS LITTLE WOMEN 

Amy. (With curtsey) My lord- 
Laurie. (Low bow) My lady — 



(They embrace. Amy sees Mr. Laurence over 
Laurie's shoulder, gives a scream, picks up 
skirt and runs off R.iJ 

Mr, Laurence. (Comes c. stage, smiling, to 
where Laurie is standing, grasps him by both hands, 
almost hugging him) My boy, it's what IVe been 
hoping for for years. 

/Jo and Bhaer enter back stage, up l., on platform 
run, pacing to and fro, talking, and not seeing 
the others, backs to audience.) 

Laurie. I'm glad you're pleased, sir. 

Mr. Laurence. (Laughing) What will Jo 
say? 

Laurie. (Who has spied her, pointing across the 
bridge and laughing) Well, I don't think she'll 
mind. Oh, I say. Grandpa, get the professor away, 
won't you ? I want to get the first skim, as we used 
to say when we were children and squabbled over 
the cream. 

Mr. Laurence. (Starting across the bridge, up 
c. and off on platform) All right, my lad. (Half 
way across he stops, as if thinking up an excuse, 
finally goes over to where the professor and Jo are 
talking. Laurie withdraws to one side, and as soon 
as Jo looks his way, beckons her energetically to 
come over to him. All this is pantomime ) Profes- 
sor Bhaer. (Takes the professor's arm and leads 
him off, going l.u.J Have you seen the Archaeo- 
logical Society's last report on the burial customs of 
the ancients? (The professor looks surprised, so 
does Jo, and Laurie is convulsed at the flimsy ex- 
cuse fabricated by the old gentleman, who links his 



LITTLE WOMEN 119 

arm through the professor's, and draws him away, 
evidently against the latter' s will, the voices dying 
away in the distance) I hear it has aroused a storm 
of protest in Boston. Mr. March and I were dis- 
cussing it and we wondered if you 

Jo. (Has, in the meantime, slowly crossed the 
bridge, comes downstage to Laurie, whom she re- 
gards suspiciously, evidently expecting trouble or 
teasing of some kind, c) What is it, Teddy? You 
look wicked. Out with it, you bad boy ! What mis- 
chief have you been up to now ? 

Laurie, (c. — dropping on his knees and folding 
his hands as if asking pardon) Please, ma'am, I'm 
going to get married. 

Jo. Mercy on me, what dreadful thing will you 
do next? 

Laurie. (Sits back on heels, laughing) A char- 
acteristic, but not exactly complimentary congratu- 
lation. 

Jo. What can you expect when you take one's 
breath away and let the cat out of the bag like that? 
Who is she? Do I know her? Get up, you ridicu- 
lous boy, and tell me all about it ! 

Laurie. (Springs up lightly) Yes, you know 
her, Jo. You've known her longer than I have. 

Jo. Miss Randall? 

Laurie. No. (Going r.) 

Jo. Not Ned Moffat's sister? Oh, I hope not. 

Laurie. Guess again. Come nearer home. 

Jo. Not Amy? 

Laurie. (Simply) Who else could it be, Jo? 
Haven't you seen? 

Jo. Teddy, dear, I am so glad. When did you 
first find out? 

Laurie. I don't just know, but I began to sus- 
pect when we were at Valrosa. Such a day! My 
faith ! But wasn't it love among the roses ? (For a 



120 LITTLE WOlVlEN 

moment Laurie forgets Jo and goes into a raptur- 
ous day dream. Jo raises her hands comically^ tries 
to slip away up c, hut Laurie catches her dress and 
pulls her hack — they laugh) Jo, dear — (Pauses, 
hand on her shoulders) — I want to sa}^ one thin^ 
and then we'll put it by forever. I never shall stop 
loving you, but the love is altered, and I have learned 
to see that it is better as it is. 

Jo. (Quickly, hoyishly) I tried to show you, 
Teddy ; but you wouldn't listen. 

Laurie. I think it was meant to be and would 
have come about naturally if I had waited, but I 
never could be patient and so I got a heartache. 
Upon my word, I was so tumbled up in my mind at 
one time that I didn't know which I loved best, you 
or Amy, and tried to love both alike. (They laugh) 
But when I saw her in the old chateau garden at 
Valrosa, everything seemed to clear up. You both 
got into your right places, and I felt sure I could 
honestly share my heart with sister Jo, and wife 
Amy, and love them both dearly. Will you believe 
it, and go back to the happy days when we first knew 
one another? 

Jo. I'll believe it with all my heart — (Puts hands 
on Laurie's shoulders) — ^but Teddy, we never can 
be boy and girl again. We are man and woman now, 
with sober work to do and we must give up frolick- 
ing. We can't be playmates any longer, but we will 
be brother and sister, to love and help one another all 
our lives, won't we? ('Jo kisses Laurie j 

/Bhaer enters again, at hack l. upper, sees and hea^s 
the following.) 

Laurie. We're going to be married right away. 
I can't wait. (Kisses ]o) 

('Bhaer stops aghast, throws up hoth hands.) 



LITTLE WOMEN 121 

Jo. Of course 'you can't — ^you always have thing's 
your own way. 

(Exit both together R.i., talking and laughing, Lau- 
rie having tucked Jo's hand under his arm. As 
they disappear Bhaer comes forward. He has 
a large white sun umbrella under his arm, one 
of the kind foreigners use, lined with green. 
As he comes across the bridge he walks deject- 
edly toward seat r. and drops dozvn on it — 
looks after them sadly — sighing) 

Bhaer. Ach, as I feared ! There is no place in 
her heart for an old fellow like me. 

Jo. (Comes backing on, re-entering ) Oh, Mr. 
Bhaer — (Pause — bumps into him and sits) — I was 
looking for you. 

Bhaer. (Rousing himself and trying to look 
cheerful) And I for you, Mees Marsche. 

Jo. (Sits beside him, ill at ease, and trying to 
make conversation) I was afraid you had gone. 

(They do not look at each other. This scene must 
be played briskly) 

Bhaer. (Reproachfully) Do you believe I 
should go with no farewell to those who haf been 
so Heafenly kind to me ? 

Jo. (Taking off hat) No, I didn't, really, but I 
know you are busy with your own affairs since you 
came East. 

Bhaer. I haf hoped to come one time yet be- 
fore I go. 

Jo. You are going, then? 

Bhaer. (Sadly, hand on heart) I haf no longer 
an}^ beezness here — it is done! (]o tries to hide her 
emotion — pause, brushes her tears away — Bhaer 
gets his handkerchief out and mops face) De sun, 
he is very hot, Mees Marche (^Bhaer raises the 



122 LITTLE WOMEN 

sun umbrella) May I not offer you this shade ? (A 
little pause is broken only by the distant sound of 
voices and the autumn song of whirring insects and 
of birds) Mees Marche, I haf a great favor to ask 
you. (Each time his tone suggests a proposal, and 
then he turns it off) 

Jo. (Looking up expectantly, gladly) Yes, 
sir ? 

Bhaer. (Hesitatingly) I am bold to say it, be- 
cause so short a time remains to me. 

Jo. Yes, sir ? 

Bhaer. You remember — the little Tina at Mrs. 
Kirk's? 

Jo. (Dryly) Oh, yes ! The little girl you played 
menagerie with and who called you her "Effalunt.'* 

Bhaer. (Tenderly) Yes, my little Tina. She 
luf to ride on my back. Tina's mother, she is so 
poor, I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, but I 
am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me 
a word of taste and help ? 

Jo. rU gladly help you, sir. 

Bhaer. Ah, das ist aber nicht von einen 

(Very tenderly — then changes) Perhaps also a 
shawl for Tina's mother, she is so very poor and 
the husband such a care. Yes, a tick, warm shawl 
would be a friendly ting, you tink so? (Looks 
at Jo; 

Jo. (Dryly) Oh, yes, a very friendly thing. 

Bhaer. Mees Marche, may we — may we — 
(Then quickly) — ^go what you call shopping toged- 
der? 

Jo. I will go shopping with you with pleasure, 
Professor Bhaer. 

(Rises, — she begins picking apples R. of bencfi and 
putting them in a basket, rising and stooping at 
her task. The Professor sees her, rises quickly, 
with his umbrella up, stands over her, the urn- 



LITTLE WOMEN 123 

hrella hohhing absurdly as he tries to shield her 
from the sun; he gives it up and stands L.c» 
sadly. Basket with handle on stage r. at rise — 
also a pile of apples.) 

Bhaer. And Mees Marche, dere is something 
more I would make so bold as to ask you. 

Jo. (^R. — again expectant — standing up ivith bas- 
ket in her hand) Yes — sir ? 

Bhaer. May we — may we — make dat shopping- 
trip to-morrow ? 

Jo. Yes, if you like (Turns 'r., starts pick- 
ing apples again) 

Bhaer. I would like it much. Pardon de haste, 

but I haf so little time (Pause) I haf made 

up my mind to go away from here. (Looking away 
— Jo stoops to pick up apples again — she is crying 
and trying to hide her face from Bhaer. Another 
pause. Jo drops apple, which turns Professor to, 
her again, taking hold of basket) May I not take 
from you dis burden? (As he bends he gets a 
glimpse of her face — a total change of tone — ten- 
derly) Heart's dearest, why do you cry? 

Jo. (Sobbing) Because — because — ^you are go- 
ing away 

Bhaer. (With a great burst of joy, throwing 
basket away up stage R. Ach, Gott, dot is so good ! 
(Gets umbrella back, afraid of himself — in his ex- 
citement gesticulating and spreading his arms wide 
— umbrella in l. hand turned upside down) Jo, I 
have nothing but much lof to give to thee, and I 
came to see if thou couldst care for it, and I waited 
to be sure that I was something more than a friend. 
Am I ? Canst thou make a little place in thy heart 
for Old Fritz? 

Jo. Oh, yes ! (She kisses him impulsively — and 
he looks at her with all his love in his eyes — they sit 
on bench) 



124 LITTLE WOMEN 

Bhaer. Endlich — Endlich! (Puts up umbrella 
and they sit behind it, A little silence while they sit 
behind the umbrella r.i., broken only by fond mur- 
mured words, that are half inaudible) My Jo ! 

Jo. My Frederick ! 

('Bhaer kisses Jo and Laurie and Amy come 
R.I. and spy them on seat behind umbrella; 
they beckon Brooke and Meg and Mr. 
and Mrs. March, who have come strolling 
in from l. upper on the platform. They all 
steal down on Jo and Bhaer. Mr. Laurence 
and Hannah come from l.i., through gate, as 
they reach positions. Laurie and Amy start 
to laugh. Bhaer and Jo look right at them. 
Brooke and Meg take up laugh louder, and then 
Mr. and Mrs. March and Mr. Laurence and 
Hannah laugh crescendo until it reaches a 
shout from all.) 

(Positions for Laugh: Amy, Laurie, Jo and Bhaer, 
Meg and John, Mr. and Mrs. March, Mr. 
Laurence, Hannah. All the action takes place 
very quickly from now on. Professor lowers 
umbrella.) 

Jo. Christopher Columbus! 

(After general laugh, Jo rushes c. Mr. March 
stops her, Mr. and Mrs. March embrace Jo — 
Jo goes R.c. ; Laurie goes to her and hugs her. 
Bhaer goes to r., shakes hands with Amy, Meg 
and Brooke. Laurie ayid Bhaer shake hands. 
Laurie goes to back to Amy r., and Bhaer 
joins Jo R. of c.) 

Laurie. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! I knew it — I knew 
it — I knew it ! (Shakes hands with Bhaer j I told 
you so four years ago, didn't I, Jo ? (]o is confused, 
but too happy to express her feeling.) Professor, 



LITTLE WOMEN 125 

youVe got one girl in a million ! Except for mine — 
(Going to Amy r., looking over lovingly at ]o) — 
her equal isn't on earth. 

Bhaer. (c. As he tucks Jo's hands under his 
arm) I know dot, my friend. 

Laurie. What's the plan? Why not a double 
wedding ? 

('Mr. and Mrs. March note this in glad surprise.) 

Bhaer. My Jo — ha, ha — that dear funny little 

name (Bus. of patting her hand — speaks 

quickly) My Jo and I, we are very simple folk, you 
see, and a grand weddmg is not for us. My Jo, she 
have her heart set on this school, and me to teach 
him. I haf a little money, not much, but I tink per- 
haps it may be done as she wishes. 
^ Laurie. (Down r.) Three cheers for the Bhaer- 
garden. (Turns to the others) Come on, every- 
body, join hands — and dance around the lovers. (He 
catches Amy by the hand and Amy, Mr. Lau- 
rence's hand and they draw the others in as they 
dance merrily around Jo and Bhaer, singing "Du 
Du leigst mir am hertzen" — On second time around 
the older ones are breathless. Jo steps forward, 
draws Mr. and Mrs. March into the ring, and she 
and the Professor join the circle, March bends and 
kisses his wife.) What's this? Another pair of 
lovers ? 

Jo. Yes, and it's Grandma's birthday. 

March. (Tenderly) Long life to her and every 
happiness. 

(Takes Mrs. March in his arms — others all dance 
round father and mother, singing ''Auld Lang 
Syne'* — then separate, with apparent uncon- 
sciousness into groups; Jo and Bhaer l. on one 
side of Mrs. March who has c. of stage; Lau- 
rie and Amy r. corner side of her; Meg and 



126 LITTLE WOMEN 

Brooke, together a Utile at one side; March 
leaning over his wife; Mr. Laurence and old 
Hannah upstage l., looking smilingly on — Mrs. 
March stretches out her hands as if to gather 
the whole group into her embrace. She looks 
at Meg and Brooke, Laurie and Amy, Jo and 
Bhaer, her voice trembles with joyful feeling.) 

Mrs. March. Oh, my girls! My girls! (On 
this cue start '^Auld Lang Syne," very piano, swell 
as curtain comes down, playing through calls) How- 
ever long you may live, I can never wish you a 
greater happiness than this. 

(Pause — Robin sings — 'Mr. March clasps Mrs. 
March's hands tenderly — all thinking of Beth. 
Hold picture for curtain — and the music 
swells.) 

MEDIUM CURTAIN 



Meg and Brooke Mrs. March and Mr. March 

Amy and Laurie Mr. Laurence and Hannah 

Jo and Bhaer 

End of Play 



- PROPERTY PLOT 
ACT I 

Ground cloth down for Act 4; faded carpet of 
old-fashioned, flowered pattern for Acts i, 2, and 3. 
Faded damask curtains for both windows, also loops 
for same. 

Lace curtains and brass rods for both windows. 
One pair of lace curtains and one pair of embroid- 
ered curtains for dining room window off R.3, and 
rods for same. 

Bookcases over r. and L.ist doors, and over dining- 
room doors, filled with books. 

ON MANTEL r.2. 

One gold clock set at 5 o'clock. 

One small white statue of Venus. 

Two candelabra. 

One match-bowl with sulphur matches. 

One old-fashioned vase. 
IN FRONT OF FIREPLACE r.2. 

Andirons. 

Fenders. 

Bellows. 

One brass coal-scuttle. 

One set of fire tools, tongs, poker, stand, all in 
brass. 

One pair of slippers (Marmee's) placed on 
fender to warm. 

One red rug. 
IN FRONT OF FIREPLACE DOWN STAGE. 

Small green footstool. 

Small cradle with doll. 
127 



128 LITTLE WOMEN 

Small upholstered stool. 

One vv^ork basket, with darning cotton, scissors, 
needles and stocking (for Beth) darning 
needles. 

Patchwork quilt for doll's cradle. 
IN JOG BETWEEN DOORS r.i AND FIRE- 
PLACE. 

Bookcase with prop books fastened to screen. 
IN FRONT OF FIREPLACE UPSTAGE. 

One large higii-back upholstered armchair. 

Manuscript and pencil in same ( for Jo) . 

Small round table, with fruit dish and prop 
apples, and two real apples in same, with fruit 
knife. 
BAY WINDOW RIGHT-CENTRE. 

Four pots of roses on window sill. 

Four china saucers under flower pots. 

Practical rose in one pot (for Beth). 

Cushion seat in bay window covered with old- 
fashioned cretonne flowered material, cover- 
ing seat and reaching to floor in front. 

Sofa pillows and old-fashioned shawl on seat. 

Rag green rug in front. 

2 small china figures on window sill L. 

Bookcases R. and L. and over bay-window filled 
with books, 
RIGHT OF BAY-WINDOW RIGHT CENTRE. 

One upholstered chair. 

In niche, bust of Plato. 

Small vase in niche. 

Snow effect in window Right Centre. 
LEFT OF BAY-WINDOW RIGHT CENTRE. 

Small oblong table. 

Modeling clay and tools on same (for Amy). 

One upholstered chair. 

One bookcase fastened to scene, prop books in 
same; bust of Shakespeare at right end of 
top shelf. 



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LITTLE WOMEN 129 

Under bookcase one small hanging picture and 
some of Amy's drawings, fastened to scene. 

Piano, old-fashioned cottage piano, with candle- 
sticks, against stairway. Piano stool. 

Crochet mat. 

One scarf, one vase with flowers, one writing- 
case, the old-fashioned writing-box that un- 
folds, with foolscap paper and quills (for 

Jo). 

Bust of Mozart on piano, also music books and 

old-fashioned lamp. 
One upholstered chair below piano. 
What-not, with suitable bric-a-brac. 
Small picture under niche above staircase. 
UNDER STAIRWAY. 

Three-cornered seat in corner under stairway. 
Cushion covering seat same as in bay-window, 

right centre. 
Three sofa pillows. 
Amy's jacket, hood and mittens (red) ; Beth's 

jacket, hood and mittens; Jo's cloak, bonnet 

and mittens ; hanging on rack in closet under 

stairway. 
DESK AT WINDOW l.2. 

Seat in window l.2D_, with cushions same as in 

bay-v/indow. 
Paper and envelopes inside of desk. 
One quill, pad and pencil, foolscap paper, sev- 
eral documents, paper, paper-cutter and one 

sand-shaker. 
Inkwell on top of desk. 
One upholstered chair for desk. 
One upholstered chair below desk. 
Quill pens. 
One what-not hanging on scene in jog below 

desk. 
One little old-fashioned teapot and bric-a-brac 

on same. 



130 LITTLE WOMEN 

One small bookcase made of spools hanging on 

scene above desk. 
TABLE CENTRE (Round mahogany centre table 

with one centre leg). 
One large Bible. 

One cloth-bound book for Jo to throw on floor. 
One wooden dagger. 
One work-basket, thimble, scissors, embroidery 

and vial in same (for Meg). 
One wooden-armed chair l. of table. 
One drawing-board in chair left of table, with 

partly-finished drawing of Venus attached to 

same, and drawing pencils (for Amy). 
Box of drawing pencils. 
One upholstered chair back of table. 

PROPS OFF STAGE— ACT I 
L.I. 

Bouquet of flowers (chrysanthemums) for Laurie. 

One cardboard, with picture of the Madonna ( for 
Laurie). 

Sealed envelope with note enclosed for Meg. 

Manuscript paper for Brooke. 

Telegram in envelope for Hannah (regular West- 
ern Union form, which has not changed). 

Two bottles of wine, one flask of brandy, old- 
fashioned dressing-gown, old-fashioned knit 
slippers, muffler, for Mr. Laurence. 

One roll of paper mone}'' (five bills) for Jo. 

One roll of paper money (five bills) and a made- 
out check for Aunt March. 

One black crooked-handle cane for Aunt March. 

One straight silver or gold-knobbed cane for Mr. 
Laurence. 

One small piece of Jo's hair for Jo. 

Snow cloth and door-mat outside of door. 

Snow effect on 'seat outside. 

Bag of salt for snow effect for Jo. 



LITTLE WOMEN 131 

ON PLATFORM OFF STAGE UP L. 

Crash effect. 

One small haircloth trunk. 

One small brooch with locks of hair inside, for 

Beth. 
One witch's beard, cloak and hat, for Meg. 
Small old-fashioned traveling bag, for Amy. 
Paisley shawl and bonnet (Marmee's) for Amy 

(Wardrobe). 
Jo's chapeau, cloak, jacket, boots and one chair. 
Sleigh bells for effect off l.^ also crash effect. 

DINING ROOM R.3. 

One sideboard, and white cover for same. 

One large black tray. 

Small tea tray, with cup, saucer, teaspoon and 

napkin for Meg. 
Toasting-fork and five slices of bread on plate for 

Beth. 
Glass bowl with flour for Hannah. 
China bowl with cracker crumbs for Jo. 
Tumbler with water for Laurie. 
One glass vase. 
Two candlesticks. 

ALL THE ABOVE ON SIDEBOARD 

One prop turkey for Hannah. 
One triangle for clock strike. 
One old-fashioned doorbell for effect. 
One white rag rug. 

OFF R.I. 

Hospital supplies in paper, consisting of bandages, 
cotton, etc., for Marmee. 

One red rug, or black-and-white rag rug. 

Twelve framed pictures to hang on scene accord- 
ing to numbers. 



132 LITTLE WOMEN 

ACT II— SCENE I 
CHANGES 

Strike Meg's witch's cloak, wig and beard. 

Strike flowers on small table above fireplace and 
place vase back on mantel R.2. 

Strike small candle, toasting fork, plate, bread and 
slippers. 

Place match bowl back on mantel from centre 
table. 

Hang girls* hats, cloaks, etc., in closet under stair- 
way. 

Bring glass vase from niche R.3D Right of bay- 
window, R.c, and place on centre table. 

Strike Beth's work-basket to r.ist. 

Strike armchair at fireplace, and bring on small 
settee in its place. 

Bring on Marmee's work-basket, with needle, 

darning cotton, stockings and china darning- 
egg, table. 

Leave small piece of paper on right side of table 
for Mr. March to put apple peelings on. 

Place Meg's work-basket, with embroidery, on 
desk L. 

Leave apples and fruit knife on small table above 
fireplace for Mr. March. 
OFF STAGE LEFT i. 

Three pink roses. 

Spread Eagle newspaper. 

One envelope containing checks. 

Three stamped envelopes (all for Laurie). 
ON PLATFORM 3. 

One pair of ice skates for Amy. (Old-fashioned 
wooden frame skates.) 
OFF STAGE R.I. 

One large old Paisley shawl (for Beth). 

Jo's writing case, with quills, foolscap paper, etc. 

One spool with pins in one end and colored yarn 
(for Beth). 



LITTLE WOMEN 133 

OFF STAGE R.3. 

One milk-pan, with plaster Paris in same, for 

Amy's foot. 
^ote. — One of Amy's slippers should he molded 
into the plaster Paris, with strings attached 



ACT II— SCENE II 

Place Me^s workbasket on R. side of table c. 

Marmee's basket at back side of table c. 

Jo's writing case l. side of table c. 

Remove drawing of Venus from Amy's drawing- 
board and leave blank sheet of drawing paper 
on same. 

Bring on four pots of pink flowers for bay-win- 
dow R.c. 

OFF STAGE L.i. 

One volume of Schiller, wrapped up in a copy of 

the Spread Eagle, for Bhaer. 
Rattle, wrapped in brown paper, for Laurie. 
Skein of pink wool wrapped in paper, for Meg. 

OFF STAGE R.3. 
Crumpled note for Jo. 

OFF STAGE R.i. 

Old book, Dickens' Pickwick Papers, for Mr. 
March. 

OFF R.I. 

Flower basket for Beth. 

Note. — No change of furniture for this scene. 

Take off snow from window R.c. and snow 

cloth from outside door, r.i. 



134 LITTLE WOMEN 

ACT III 

CHANGES OF FURNITURE. 

Move centre tabid about one foot to the left. 

Bring black haircloth sofa on and place in front of 
bay-window, R.c. 

Place on couch sofa pillows and afghan from win- 
dow-seat, also Beth's small white pillow. 

Place Jo's writing-case on left of table l. 

Strike settee at fireplace and bring in large arm- 
chair in its place. 

Strike sofa pillow in armchair. 

Strike four pots of crysanthemums in window, R.c. 

Bring four pots of roses in place with saucers. 

OFF STAGE L.i. 

One broom, one dust-pan, one dust-cloth, for Hfei- 

nah. 
One bunch of forget-me-nots for Bhaer. 

ON MANTEL R.2. 

(New) book of Schiller wrapped in paper with 
twine, light twine to be broken easily, and three 
addressed envelopes. 
On small table left of bay-window, Amy's draw- 
ing board with picture of Madonna, and draw- 
ing pencils. 

ON PLATFORM OFF L.3. 

One large pillow with pillow slip (white), with 
two babies on same, fully dressed. Have card- 
board inside of pillow slip to stiffen it. 

One small pillow and covering for babies. 

Two three-cornered blankets for babies' heads. 

Blue and white afghan to cover. 

Pink and blue ribbons on dolls' arms. 



LITTLE WOMEN I35 

OFFR.I. . , , . 1 . ji 

Beth's work-basket, containing baby jacket, needle, 

threa-i and scissors. 

Shawl for Mr. March— old Paisley shawl. 

OFF STAGE EFFECTS. 

Bird effect of robin, back centre on cue. 

Bird effect on cue at end of act, back centre. 



ACT IV 

Ground cloth. 

Grass mats to cover platform. 

Flowers and vine for wall. 

24 grass mats. 

Prop apples on ground R. and some real apples. 

Cricket effect on curtain up. 

Bird effect on cue. 

One large basket filled with prop apples down R. 
by tree. 

One empty market basket by tree down R. 

One bench under tree down R. 

Three stacks of prop apples, r.l. and C. 

Two mats for runway. 
OFF STAGE L.i. 

One large lunch basket, for Hannah. 
OFF STAGE LEFT 3. 

One white umbrella for Bhaer. 

CHARACTER TYPES NECESSARY FOR 
THE PLAY 

JAMES LAURENCE: u^ a 

A slender, stately, courtly old man, well-dressed 
in old-fashioned style ; a gentleman of tlie old 
school. Carries a gold or silver-headed walk- 
ing stick. 



136 LITTLE WOMEN 

MR. MARCH: 

White-haired, scholarly, gentle; his clothes worn, 
neat and rather clerical in cut ; wears spectacles ; 
his voice low, soft, refined. 

JOHN BROOKE: 

About 25 ; brown eyes, good-looking, pleasant, 
with rather dry humor; unassuming in manner; 
neatly, simply dressed; appearance that of 
quiet, kindly, home-loving man. 

LAURIE : 

About 18 at opening of play: tall, broad-shoul- 
dered, slender, dark, his black eyes and curly 
hair indicating the Italian; almost a dandy in 
respect to dress, but wears his clothes uncon- 
sciously; charming manners, his boyishness at 
beginning developing into the attractive, polished 
man of the world, unspoiled by flattery, with a 
boyish spirit always; full of fun, with merry 
smile and wheedlesome ways; rather moody 
sometimes, but keenly alive to a joke. A born 
tease, 

PROFESSOR FRIEDRICH BHAER: 

About 40. Short, stout, rather thickset, with quan- 
tities of turbulent gray-brown hair and a short, 
shaggy, thick gray beard; wears gray clothes 
that are mussy, with bulging pockets; speaks 
with broken German accent ; has kindly, benevo- 
lent face ; type of man one could trust at once 
and children would adore. 

AUNT MARCH : 

Rather stout, elaborately, fussily dressed; little 
lame from gout ; carries long ebony staff tipped 
with gold, or a crooked cane, on which she leans 
heavily. She should be richly dressed, hand- 



LITTLE WOMEN 137 

some India shawl, or velvet mantilla, etc. Car- 
ries a reticule. Sparkling rings, etc. Every- 
thing suggests she denies herself nothmg. 

MRS. MARCH: ^ ^ ^ 

Placid, sweet-faced, rather stout, motherly. ^ Her 
white hair is worn plain, parted in middle. 
Plainly, neatly dressed ; gentle in manner, adored 
by everyone. The centre of the March house- 
hold is Marmee. 

HANNAH MULLETT: , , , ., 

Forty, or thereabouts, type of old family servant, 
faithful and devoted to the Marches. An Irish 
type. Manner respectful, but masterful; ac- 
customed to rule the March girls and to share 
in the household joys and sorrows. 

MEG: .. .,t,i A 

Eighteen, pretty, plump, fair, with blue eyes and 
brown hair. Womanly in make-up ; industrious, 
affectionate. Everything about her subdu-ed and 
restful. Wears silver gray, white, violet, soft 
pastel shades. 

Seventeen, tall, thin, brown, with decided mouth 
and eyes, quick, decisive way of speaking. Her 
hair a beautiful chestnut ; legs and arms in the 
way; awkward, like a colt, in opening act; an- 
gular, comical, but not grotesque. Boyish man- 
ners ; whistles and puts her hands in her apron 
pockets. A thorough tomboy, but this modifies 
as play progresses, effect of Beth's illness and 
death, and the inevitable results of the growing- 
up and falling-in-love process. 
BETH : 

Sixteen. Little Tranquility, her entire make-up 
suggesting the family's pet name for her. A 
quiet, mouse-like girl, with soft, gentle blue 
eyes, shy manners. Rosy in first act, with soft 



138 LITTLE WOMEN 

brown hair. She should wear brown with a 
touch of red in first act. Always knitting, 
sewing or pottering- about the plants — never idle. 
Shows the effect of illness in second act, and 
in third looks white and worn. 
AMY: 

Fifteen, fair, blue eyes, golden hair, slender, pretty, 
decidedly prim in first act. This modifies as 
play progresses, until she becomes a graceful, 
charming girl in the third. In the fourth, an 
attractive, beautiful, cultured woman, with a 
genius for dressing and making the most of 
herself ; well-poised and dignified, with all trace 
of self-consciousness gone. 

CLOTHES OF CHARACTERS 

MR. LAURENCE : 

White wig — smooth face — high collar — stock tie 
— dark Prince Albert — brocaded vest — shirt ruf- 
fles — light trousers — light gaiters. In Act I — 
long crocheted woolen scarf — carries ebony 
cane with gold or silver head — Should have at 
least three changes. 

MR. MARCH : 

First dress — ^black trousers — ^long dark red dress- 
ing-gown, rather shabby — stock and black tie — 
hair, iron gray and just touching collar — ^thin, 
tall and gentle, with fine features. Second 
dress — ^plain, shabby black frock suit — 3d and 
4th acts — gray frock suit, with black velvet col- 
lar and cuffs. 

JOHN BROOKE: 

Acts 1st and 2d: Dull brown or green frock coat 
— cap — overcoat — soft felt hat — all shabby-look- 
ing, but neat — stock collar and tie. 3d act — 
frock coat and brocaded vest, little less shabby. 
4th act — another change — same style, but better 
— straw hat. 



LITTLE WOMEN 139 

LAURIE: 

First act : brown trousers and vest — ^brown short 
one — button jacket — brown cap — turn-down col- 
lar and dark red Windsor tie — light tan over- 
coat, rather short. 2d act — light tan suit, short, 
boyish style, with brown Windsor tie. 3d act — 
gray trousers and blue coat, customary style of 
period — with stock — gray felt hat. 4th act — 
dark blue or purple suit, with stock collar and 
tie — straw hat. 

PROFESSOR BHAER: 

Second act : Mussy gray suit, with bulging pock- 
ets ; 3d act — shabby black frock coat with black 
velvet collar, flowered vest — stock and tie — old 
silk hat — ^broad, comfortable, unstylish boots or 
shoes. 4th act — light linen trousers — ^brown 
frock coat — straw hat — ^white cotton, green- 
lined umbrella, with crooked wooden handle. 

AUNT MARCH: 

Pink and white make-up — white hair-puffs on side 
— carries gold-headed or black, crooked-handle 
cane, ist act — blue, green or purple moire pop- 
lin, or watered silk — very full skirt and basque 
(no hoops) — ^very full white petticoat, with three 
stiffly starched ruffles. (Note: These petticoats 
for all the woman characters.) Over dress she 
wears old-fashioned velvet or brocaded plush 
dolman — ^black sash — mere neck scarf with pais- 
ley border across the ends — scarf about eight 
inches wide and two yards long — small black 
bonnet with little purple tips — gloves and a little 
silk wrist bag. Old-fashioned jewelry and loud, 
old-fashioned earrings, which Meg wears in 
last act — also whatever pin or neckchain Aunt 
March wears. 2d act — ^light-colored rich plaid 



143 LITTLE WOMEN 

silk — full skirt and basque — light or white 
ground Paisley shawl — small bonnet — small, 
old-fashioned quizzing glass on chain or rib- 
bon — cane and bag as in act i. Under shawl 
little black silk cape or wrap, rather be-ruffled. 
This shows when she lets shawl fall off in scene 
with Meg. 

MRS. MARCH: 
Act I — ^hair parted and rolled over ears — and in 
net at back — ^brown in acts i, 2 and 3; gray in 
act 4. Gray woolen dress and long* cloak, cir- 
cular — plain black bonnet and black cloth bag. 
Prunella shoes and red-lined arctic overshoes — 
old slippers at fireplace — gray stockings with 
tie toes and heels (can be found at almost any 
ten-cent store) — small black sateen apron — 
white fichu. Paisley shawl and nicer bonnet 
for end of act. Act 2, first scene, same. 2d 
scene, change to simple, figured gray gown, silk 
apron. Act 3, gray and black or purple trimmed 
dress — simple and with headdress. Act 4, 
purple and black — and bonnet. All dresses a 
little better than the rough gray wool of act i. 

HANNAH MULLETT : 

Brown sunburned make-up — hair parted and 
twisted very tight over ears and into small tight 
knot at back, ist, 2d and 3d acts, dress of brown 
Jeans cloth, with different-colored aprons. Act 
4, blue and green wash dress, small check or 
plaid. No bonnet. 

MEG: 

First dress : blue, with blue and white striped or 
plaid ruffles — hair net — long black cambric 
witch's cloak with gold paper trimming — ^black 
peaked hat of same. (Note. — Act 2, scene 2, 
Amy wears duplicate of Meg's dress, slightly 
altered, but easily recognized as Meg's.) 2d act : 



LITTLE WOMEN 141 

Scene i, same. Scene 2, buff-colored dress — 3 
flounces trimmed with coral pink — coral pink 
hat with white silk scarf around it — pink scarf 
for shoulders and black shoes, which she chang^es 
to pink as she goes out. ( Note. — Pink wool for 
her to wind.) Act 4, golden brown and tan 
dress trimmed with Persian silk — hair parted 
and soft around face, with hair net in all sets. 
White stockings and single-strap slippers. 
JO: 

Act I, oxblood red woolen dress, very plain, 
plain white collar — long chestnut hair in net. 
Boy's suit — black satin breeches, black velvet 
jacket, long cloak lined with red, black chapeau 
with ridiculous cockade — ^long russet boots. 
(Note. — Underdress — satin knee breeches for 
boy's dress — very quick change to be made on 
platform upstairs.) Heavy-soled button boots, 
old. Prunella shoes, which she puts on after 
changing back; no time to button shoes — gray 
stockings like Mrs. March — gray circular wool 
cloak with bonnet to match, with embroidered 
curtain at back of head — brown mittens on 
black string — short, almost Buster Brown wig, 
for end of act, also first scene of act 2 — same 
dress. Act 2, scene 2 — Green sateen writing 
apron and cap, with red frills on apron, which 
has long sleeves and is built to cover her com- 
pletely — cap has big red bow. Blue and white 
striped dress and silk Windsor tie. Red dress 
shoe-top length. Second dress a little longer 
— last two to the ground. Act 2, scene 2, hair 
to shoulder when net is off — showing it is grow- 
ing. Act 3d, tan striped challie or delaine 
trimmed with brown and brown bonnet trimmed 
with little red rosebuds. Act 4, lavender figured 
challie trimmed with apple-green — large leghorn 
hat trimmed with bow and strings. 



142 LITTLE WOMEN 

BETH : 

Acts I and 2, dresses to a little below shoetops. 
Hair in net. Act i, brown woolen dress, white 
stockings and Prunella shoes — brown knitted 
hood with gray wool jacket. Act 2, scene I, 
soft gray dress trimmed with blue; scene 2, 
same with coral pink, checked dainty apron 
over it. Act 3, pale blue long princess wrapper 
trimmed with narrow black velvet, pretty little 
lace cape — white wool shoulder shawl — hair 
falling on shoulders. 

AMY: 

Must have golden curls, quite long — ^very fair 
make-up — ^white stockings. (Note. — If legs are 
too "womanly," have her wear red stockings in 
first act and scene i of second act.) Dress to 
calf of leg. Act i, light gray wool dress 
trimmed with scarlet-strap slippers. Act 2, 
scene i — same, but with heavy woolen stockings 
over her shoes, brown jacket, pale blue crocheted 
hood and bright red mittens on string, when she 
goes skating. Act 2, scene 2 — Meg's blue dress 
of act I, slightly altered — blue gingham apron 
covered with white flour and plaster for first 
entrance. Curls slightly tied back — skirts, 
ankle-length. Change for end of act to white 
silk dress draped in festoons of net caught with 
rosebuds. Blue silk scarf for head — carry bou- 
quet of delicate flowers in paper holder. Act 
3 — g'feen and white challie — hair in net — leg- 
horn hat. Act 4 — Rose and figured challie skirt 
and waist trimmed with black velvet — pink taf- 
feta jacket with pink rose trimmings — white 
straw bonnet, trimmed with pink. 

Note. — Please follow the colors for the dresses of 
the four girls and Mrs. March in Act 1st. This 
is necessary. 



DOROTHY'S NEIGHBORS. 

A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of *"The 
New Co-Ed," "Tempest and Sunshine," and many other successful plays. 
4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to arrange ; two plain 
interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if necessary, the two interiors 
will answer. Costumes modern. Plays 2J^ hours. 

The story is about vocational training, a subject now widely discussed; also, 
the distribution of large wealth. 

Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue there is good logic and 
I sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the attention of the experi- 
enced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, particularly suited to high school 
production. P"ce, 30 Cents. 

MISS SOMEBODY ELSE. 

A modern play in four acts by Marion Short, author of "The Touch- 
down," etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Costumes mod- 
ern. Plays 2% hours. 

This delightful comedy has gripping dramatic moments, unusual character 
types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modern in theme and treat- 
ment. The story concerns the adventures of Constance Darcy, a multi-million- 
aire's young daughter. Constance embarks on a trip to find a young man who 
had been in her father's employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She 
almost succeeds, when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this 
point she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in order to 
assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to sink her own aristo- 
cratic personality in that of a refined but humble little Irish waitress with the 
family that are in want. She not only carries her scheme to success in assisting 
the family, but finds romance and much tense and lively adventure during the 
period of her incognito, aside from capturing the young man who had defrauded 
her father. The story Is full of bright comedy lines and dramatic situations and 
is highly recommended for amateur production. This is one of the best come- 
dies we have ever offered with a lar^e number of female characters. The dialogue 
is bright and the play is full of action from start to finish; not a dull moment In 
it. This is a great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome 
story will please the parents and teachers. We strongly recommend it. 

Price, 30 Cents. 



PURPLE AND FINE LINEN. 

An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three 
acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 male, 5 female char- 
acters. 

This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an admirable play 
ioT amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied types and is not too difficult 
while thoroughly pleasing. Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City 

Gew and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



THE TOUCH-DOWN. 

A comedy in four acts, by Marion Short. 8 males, 6 females, but any 
number of characters can be introduced in the ensembles. Costumes mod- 
ern. One interior scene throughout the play. Time, 2^ hours. 

This play, written for the use of clever amateurs, is the story of life in 
Siddell, a Pennsylvania co-educational college. It deals with the vicissitudes and 
final triumph of the Siddell Football Eleven, and the humorous and dramatic 
incidents connected therewith. 

"The Touch-Down" has the true varsity atmosphere, college songs are sung, 
and the piece is lively and entertaining throughout. High schools will make no 
mistake in producing this play. We strongly recommend it as a high-class and 
•well-written comedy. Price, 30 Cents. 



HURRY, HURRY, HURRY. 

A comedy in three acts, by LeRoy Arnold. 5 males, 4 females. One 
interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2%. hours. 

The story is based on the will of an eccentric aunt. It stipulates that her 
pretty niece must be_ affianced before she is twenty-one, and married to her 
fiance within a yean, if she is to get her spinster relative's million. Father has 
nice notions of honor and fails to tell daughter about the will, so that she may 
make her choice untrammeled by any other consideration than that of true love. 
The action all takes place in the evening the midnight of which will see her 
reach twenty-one. Time is therefore short, and it is hurry, hurry, hurry, if she 
is to become engaged and thus save her father from impending bankruptcy. 

The situations are intrinsically funny and the dialogue is sprightly. The 
characters are natural and unaffected and the action moves with a snap such as 
should be expected from its title. Price, 30 Cents. 



THE VARSITY COACH. 

A three-act play of college life, by Marion Short, specially adapted 
to performance by amateurs or high school students. 5 males, 6 females, 
but any number of boys and girls may be introduced in the action of the 
play. Two settings necessary, a college boy's room and the university 
campus. Time, about 2 hours. 

Like many another college boy, "Bob" Selby, an all-round popular college 
man, becomes possessed of the idea that athletic prowess is more to be desired 
than scholarship. He is surprised in the midst of a "spread" in his room in 
Regatta week by a visit from his aunt who is putting him through college. 
Aunt Serena, "a. lady of the old school and the dearest little woman in the 
whole world," has hastened to make this visit to her adored nephew under the 
mistaken impression that he is about to receive the Fellowes prize for scholarship. 
Her grief and chagrin when she learns that instead of the prize Robert has 
received "a pink card," which is eqi'.ivalent to suspension for poor scholarship, 
gives a touch of pathos to an otherwise jolly comedy of college life. How the 
repentant Robert more than redeems himself, carries off honors at the last, and 
in the end wins Ruth, the faithful Httle sweetheart of the "ProTi" and the class- 
room makes a story of dramatic Interest and brings out very clearly certain 
phases of modern college life. There areJ several opportunities for the_ introduction 
of college songs and "stunts." Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) ^^^ 

SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City 

New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 






THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY. 

The famous comedy in three acts, by Anne Warner. 7 males, 6 
females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours. 

This is a genuinely funny comedy with splendid parts (or "Aunt Mary/* 
"Jack," her lively nephew; "Lucinda," a New England ancient maid of all work: 
"Jack's" three chums; the Girl "Jack" loves; "Joshua," Aunt Mary'g hired 
man, etc. 

"Aunt Mary" was played by May Robson in New York and on tour for over 
two years, and it is sure to be a big success wherever produced. We strongly 
recommend it. Price, 60 Cents* 

MRS. BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. 

A pleasing comedy, in three acts, by Harry James Smith, author of 
"The Tailor-Made Man." 6 males, 6 females. One interior scene. Cos- 
tumes modern. Plays 2% hours. 

Mr. Smith chose foi« his initial comedy the complications arising from the 
endeavors of a social climber to land herself in the altitude peopled by hyphenated 
names— a theme permitting innumerable complications, according to the spirit of 
the writer. 

This most successful comedy was toured for several seasons by Mrs. Fiske 
with enormous success. Price, 60 Cents. 

MRS. TEMPLE'S TELEGRAM. 

A most successful farce in three acts, by Frank Wyatt and William 
Morris. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene stands throughout the 
three acts. Costumes modern. Plays 2^^ hours. 

"Mrs. Temple's Telegram" is a sprightly farce in which there is an abund> 
ance of fun without any taint of impropriety or any element of offence. As 
noticed by Sir Walter Scott, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we 
practice to deceive!" 

There is not a dull moment in the entire farce, and from the time the curtain 
rises until it makes the final drop the fun is fast and furious. A very exceptional 
arce. Price, 60 Cents. 

THE NEW CO-ED. 

A comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of "Tempest and 
Sunshine," etc. Characters^ 4 males, 7 females, though any number of 
boys and girls can be introduced in the action of the play. One interior 
and one exterior scene, but can be easily played in one interior scene. 
Costumes modern. Time, about 2 hours. 

The theme of this play is the coming of a new student to the college, her 
reception by the scholars, her trials and final triumph. 

There are three especially good girls' parts, Letty, Madge and Estelle, but 
the others have plenty to do. "Punch" Doolittle and George Washington Watts, 
a gentleman of color, are two particularly good comedy characters. We can 
strongly recommend "The New Co-Ed" to high schools and amateurs. 

Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subjecf to Royalty When Produced) 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street. New York City 

Mew and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request 



^/ 



FRENCH'S 

Standard Library Edition 

Indades Plays by 



Clyde Fitch 
R. C. Carton 
Alfred Sutro 
Richard Harding Davis 
Arthur W. Pinero 
Anthony Hope 
Oscar Wilde 
Haddon Chambers 
Jerome K. Jerome 
Cosmo Gordon Lennox 
H. V. Esmond 
Mark Swan 
Grace L. Fumiss 
Marguerite Merrington 
Hermann Sudermann 
Rida Johnson Young 
Arthur Law 
Rachel Crothers 
Augustus Thomas 
William Gillette 
George Broadhurst 
Martha Morton 
H. A. Du Souchet 
Edward E. Kidder 
W. W. Jacobs 



Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 
Louis N. Parker 
Madeleine Lucettc Ryley 
Wmchell Smith 
Margaret Mayo 
Wm. C. de Mille 
Edward Peple 
A. E. W. Mason 
Charles Klein 
James Forbes 
Henry Arthur Jones 
A. E. Thomas 
Channing Pollock 
Fred. Ballard 
J. Hartley Manners 
James Montgomery 
Cyril Harcourt 
Roi Cooper Megrue 
Carlisle Moore 
Ernest Denny 
Laurence Housman 
Harry James Smith 
Edgar Selwyn 
Augustin McHugh 
Robert Housum 



Percy Mac Kay e 
French's International Copyrighted Edition con- 
tains plays, comedies and farces of international 
reputation; also recent professional successes by 
famous American and Englisli Authors. 

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